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Rev. Calvin Fairbank 

' During Slavery Times. 



How HE "Fought thh (jood Fight'" to Prepare 
"The Way." 



EDITED FROM HIS MANUSCRIPT. 



CHICAGO : 

patriotic jpublisbiitg Co., 

384 Deakbokn Stbeet. 
i8;io. 






24567 



COPYEIGHT, 18!)0, BY R. R. MoCaBE. 




Ipicss of 
1R. 1R. rmcCafc & Co., Chicago. 



DEDICATED 



XiDcrtg (5uarD, anC» tbeic Successors, 

who kkcognize 

"The Fatheehood of God, and Bkotheehood 
OF Man." 

THE AUTHOR. 



PEEFACE 



"^X presenting to the public so small a volume as a 
f representation of so large and extraordinary an ex- 
perience, I feel bound by sentiments of propriety to answer 
beforehand the query of every one, perhaps, who has for 
several years looked for its publication in a more extensive 
edition, and at an earlier day. 

Upon my liberation in April, 1864, my health did not 
allow me to write. Very soon thereafter the country was 
flooded with books on the war. Neither then, nor since 
then have I been able myself to defray the expense of its 
publication. I had wi'itten twelve hundred pages, sufficient 
to make five hundred pages of readable matter; but every 
one considered it too long. I had since that time prepared 
what I thought could be safely published and put in market. 
But men of experience, in order to avoid the risk of finan- 
cial failure, advised condensation in this edition and wait 
results. 

Please accept this as my apology, and believe me 

Yours in faith, 

Calvin Fairbank. 

Angelica, New York. 
August, 1890. 



COI^TENTS. 



CHAPTER I. 
Parentage — Birth — Education 1-7 

CHAPTER II. 
Slavery Unconstitutional 8-11 

CHAPTER III. 
Aiding the Fugitives — Escape of Sam Johnson — Rescue of a 
Family of Seven — Meeting in Detroit, Mich., Twelve Years 
Later — Helen Payne — Cross the River with Fourteen Fugi- 
tives in a Scow — A Man, his Wife and Three Children in 
Peril — Cross the Dividing Waters on a Raft — "Get up 
Quick! do, Mr. Fairbank!"— Taken to a Place of Safety. . 12-17 

CHAPTER IV. 
In the Fifth Generation — A Slave Girl of Fifteen — Three 
Daughters Rescued — The Mother Would Not Leave Her 
Mother — Shotgun versus a Colt's Revolver 18-19 

CHAPTER V 
Emily Ward — " I Come to Release You " — Cross the River on 
a Pine Log — The "Apostle of Freedom" — "Aunt Katie" 
— S. P. Chase — Gamaliel Bailey — Samuel Lewis — " The 
Hunters are Looking for Emily!" — "There is my old 
Master!"— "Oh! I Beg your Pardon, Lady! "—The British 
Lion — John Hamilton — The Stanton Family — " Come 

Over to Kentucky, and Help Us ! " 20-25 

vii. 



vni. CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER VI. PAGB. 

Eliza — Nicholas Longworth — The Wealth and Culture of 
Boston, New York, Philadelphia, Baltimore, Cincinnati, 
Washington, New Orleans, Louisville, Frankfort, and 
Lexington — Hon. Robert Wickliflfe — A " Black-eyed 
Frenchman" — "Eliza Upon the Block" — "Embodiment 
of Diabolus "—The Auctioneer Directs Attention to "This 
Valuable Piece of Property "— " Two Hundred and Fifty 
Dollars" — "How High are You Going to Bid?" "Four- 
teen Hundred and Fifty!" — "Who is Going to Lose Such 
a Chance as This!" — "Horrible!" — "Smote Her White 
Flesh" — -"Boston and New Orleans Wept Side by Side" — 
"Fourteen Hundred and Eighty-Five!" — The Hammer 
Fell— Eliza Was Mine!— William Minnis— Left Free by 
His Master — Sold by His Master's Son — A Plan Laid for 
His Rescue — I am Selected for the Hazardous Undertak- 
ing — Go to Arkansas — Minnis Discovered after Four 
Weeks' Investigation — Disguised — Take the Boat for 
Cincinnati — Minnis Meets His Young Master — The Crisis 
Safely Passed — Pullum, the Slave Trader, Appears — Does 
not Recognize Minnis — Reach Cincinnati in Safety — On 
to Canada — " Shouldered Arms for the Union " 26-44 

CHAPTER VII. 

My First Imprisonment — The Case of Gilson Berry — Miss 
Delia Webster — Lewis Hayden — "Because I'm a Man!" — 
Pete DriscoU— "An Abolition Hole" — Eli C. Collins— 
Levi Collins — Dr. Rankin — Rescue of the Hayden Family 
— Three Indictments Found — Leslie Coombs — In Stiff 
Irons — Two Prisoners Escape — " I'll Fix You for Slow 
Traveling" — Petition for Miss Webster's Release — Plea 
to the Jury — "There is Not a Slave Legally Held in the 
United States of America!" — Conviction — Fifteen Years 
at Hard Labor — Dressed in Stripes and Put to Sawing 
Stone 45-53 

CHAPTER VIII. 

My Incarceration — Captain Newton Craig — Supplied with 
Money — Benjamin Howard — Francis Jackson — Ellis Gray 



CONTENTS. IX. 

PAGE. 

Loring — My Father's Arrival in Kentucky — Promise of 
Pardon — Governor Crittenden — Cholera was Raging- 
Death of My Father — Buried among Strangers 54-56 

CHAPTER IX. 

Pardoned by Governor Crittenden — A Lively Interest in 
Religion — Isaac Wade — Rev. William Buck — Governor 
Ouseley— A Boy Pardoned — William Driver Gains His 
Freedom 57-59 

CHAPTER X. 

Among Old Friends— The " Old Guard "—Escape of Two Little ^ 
Girls— "Where Do All the Niggers Go To?"— S. P. Chase 
Elected United States Senator — The Free Soil Party — 
A Revival in Progress — ^Visit Cleveland and Detroit — 
Meet Coleman and His Family^Sandusky — Invited to 
Speak at Chicago— Six Fugitives Hotly Pursued — They 
Escape to Canada — The Hunters Too Late — " Seen Any 
Niggers About Here? " — " If You Can Run on the Water!" 
— At BufiEalo — Abner H. Francis — James G. Birney — Two 
Anti-Slavery Parties — Garrison — ^Phillips — Smith — Pills- 
bury — Abby Kelly Foster — Samuel Ward — Fred Douglass 
— The Fugitive Slave Law — Henry Clay— Daniel Webster 
—"When the Iron Pierces Your Heart " — The Legislature 
of Massachusetts — Mr. Webster Censured — Henry Wilson 
^" Doughfaces with Their Ears and Eyes Filled with 
Cotton!" — John G. Whittier^ — "Conscience and Constitu- 
tion " — " You Must Conquer Your Prejudices" — " We 
Must Fight! " 60-76 

CHAPTER XL 

The Fugitive Slave Law Passed — James M. Ashley of Ohio 
Secures its Repeal — Marriage of William and Ellen Craft 
—Theodore Parker— "Take This and Defend Your Wife!" 
— Fillmore and His Cabinet — "A Den of Thieves" — 
"Liberty Party" Convention at Buffalo — Gerrit Smith 
for President; Charles Durkee of Iowa for Vice-President 
— Sojourner Truth 77-84 



X. CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER XII. PAGE. 

Second Imprisonment — Rescue of Tamar, a Young Mulatto 
Woman — Cross the Ohio at Night — Return to Jefiferson- 
ville, Indiana — Kidnaped — Inmates of the Prison — 
"Axes to Grind" — Colonel Buckner — "Hallelujah, I'm 
Victorious! " — Hon. James Speed — The Higher Law 8.5-92 

CHAPTER XIII. 
Laura S. Haviland — "Bail or Break Jail" — Marshall Plays the 

Knave — Lovell H. Rousseau — I Was Slaughtered 93-96 

CHAPTER XIV. 
Trial and Conviction — The Testimony — "What is Linsey?" — 
Leave the Jail in Irons — Judge Buckner — Judge Bullock — 
Fifteen Years at Hard Labor — Five Thousand Dollars 
Bail 97-103 

CHAPTER XV. 

My Reception — Craig's Reign — Prison Government and Pri- 
son Life—" Black Hole of Calcutta" 104-108 

CHAPTER XVL 
My Own Experience — Craig's Conduct — The First Ten Cuts 
from a Rawhide — Shot in the Back — The School of 
Scandal — Punishment Escaped — Zebulon Ward — " If I 
Kill You All "... 109-117 

CHAPTER XVII. 

The Prisoners Overworked — The Smack of the Strap — 
"Hardy's Best" — Sixty -five Lashes — One More Scene of 
Barbarity — Playing Marbles 118-128 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

A Speech Before the People of Kentucky — "The War is 
Inevitable " — Governor Morehead — " The Yankees won't 
Fight "—Senator K . —Senator John M. Prall 129-132 

CHAPTER XIX. 
The War — "Come on, Boys! Come on! " — A Prophecy Fulfilled 
— Thirty-five Thousand One Hundred and Five Stripes in 
Eight Years 133-138 



CONTENTS. XI. 

CHAPTER XX. PiOE. 

Harry I. Todd's Reign— " That's My Daylight! "—"What You 
Doin' Here?" — Skull Fractured— In the Hands of the 
Government — Richard T. Jacob — General James Harlan 
— " Suddenly and Mysteriously Went Down " — President 
Lincoln Sends General Fry to Kentucky — A Bomb-Shell 
• — Thomas E. Bramlette — "Come Before Me Forthwith" — 
Jacob Was Governor — "Fairbank, You are Going Out!". 139-146 

CHAPTER XXI. 
Pardon — Reception in the North — "Now, Ben, I'd Give it Up!" 
— Reception at Cincinnati, Ohio — "Sing, Chillen, Sing!" 
— "After Years of Faithful Waiting" — "Barbarism of 
Slavery"- "The Horrible Whippings" — "The Stafif of 
Life to Him " — Reception at Detroit, Michigan — Welcome 
at Oberlin 147-166 

CHAPTER XXII. 
Election — Vote at Oberlin — At Toronto, Canada — Field Day 

— Sir Charles Napier — " I am a Gentleman! " 167-172 

CHAPTER XXIII. 
At Baltimore — Washington — Norfolk, Va. — John M. Brown — 
President Lincoln's Inauguration — The Levee — Sojourner 
Truth — "I am a Rebel, Sir!" — Fall of Richmond — Assas- 
sination of the President — " How are the Mighty 
Fallen " 173-181 

APPENDIX. 

The Elevation of the Colored Race — The Moore Street Indus- 
trial Society of Richmond, Va. — " The Romantic History" 
— "Pharaoh Outdone" — Death of Mrs. Fairbank— The 
Soldier's Award— A Much W^hipped Clergyman — Marriage 
of Calvin C. Fairbank — Statement of Laura S. Haviland . 183-208 



REV. CALVIN FAIRBANK DURING 
SLAVERY TIMES. 



How HE "Fought the Good Fight" to Prepare 
"The Way/' 



EDITED FROM HIS MANUSCRIPT. 



CHAPTER I. 

Parentage — Birth — Education. 

ly yf Y parents were of English extraction. My father's 
^^^ grandfather came to New England about 1730, 
and settled in Massachusetts, near what is now known 
as Fall River, in the southern part of the state. My 
father was born at Swansea, Massachusetts, in 1788, 
during that terrible war maintained by King Philip 
against the white settlements in that vicinity. He re- 
moved to Windsor county, Vermont, while quite young. 
My mother, Betsey Abbott, was the daughter of 
Jacob Abbott, a name now famous in the history of 
church and state in this country, whose father settled 



25 HOW ''THE WAV WAS PREPARED. 

on Martha's Vineyard in the year 1750, where Jacob 
was born. His father, with others of the family, 
desiring more room, removed to Massachusetts; and 
thus the family was scattered throughout New England. 
When my grandmother was only twelve years of 
age, being left alone one day, she Avas captured by the 
Indians, and taken across the Connecticut river in a 
canoe, then put on horseback, and carried twenty miles 
into the forest to their settlement. She was kindly 
treated, though carefully guarded; but she won the 
confidence of the guard, who, after partaking — with her, 
as he thought — too freely of "fire water," fell asleep. 
It was her chance, and while all were locked in pro- 
found slumber, she slipped her saddle from under the 
head of the chief, hastily saddled and mounted the old 
white horse, who knew his young mistress, and was 
soon beyond the reach of her enemies, whom she heard 
toward day -break, whooping on her trail. "Whitey" 
knew his way home, and reaching the Connecticut 
plunged fearlessly in, and swimming with vigor, soon 
reached the opposite bank, leaving between him and 
his savage, disappointed pursuers the broad swift cur- 
rent of the stream. He bore his precious burden 
safely up the bank, and as she appeared through the 
brush, a shout of joy rang out on the morning air, 
from anxious parents, and friends, who had spent the 



PARENTAGE— BIRTH— EDUCATION. 6 

long night in searching, and watching, and praying for 
her. 

My motlier was born at Stafford, Tolland county, 
Connecticut, February 13th, 1787, but soon after re- 
moved to Windsor county, Vermont, where she grew to 
womanhood, siirrounded, as was also my father, by 
circumstances favorable to the cultivation of sanctified 
pluck. On the first of January, 1810, at Judge Key's 
residence, Stockbridge, ^yindsor county, Vermont, my 
father and mother were married, and ever after in the 
most holy manner, kept their plighted faith. 

Upon the outbreak of the war in 1812, my father 
volunteered, leaving my mother, with my oldest brother 
and sister, in care of the two families. He remained 
in the service until a short time before the close of the 
war. Then, in company with other members of both 
families, he removed to a section of country considered 
almost beyond the bounds of the civilized world — now 
Pike, Wyoming county, New York. There in the 
woods, on the third day of November, 1816, I first saw 
the light of day. 

The ancestry of both father and mother, their sur- 
roundings in the new world, their experiences, all 
tended to the development of energy, and courage both 
moral and physical, and a sense of justice without re- 
gard to race, class, or sex. 



4 HOW ''THE WAY" WAS PREPARED. 

My earliest recollections carry me back to the 
forests filled with wolves howling about our cabin, the 
trees so near that, falling toward it, they often crashed 
upon its roof. Of society, outside of our own family, I 
call up Christian communion with the neighbors. My 
mother, being a pioneer, stirred up all susceptible to 
gospel truth, to purity, charity, and spirituality. My 
first impressions were from the Christian efforts from 
house to house, in the prayer-meeting, the class-meet- 
ing, and preaching by the circuit preachers. These 
men were accustomed to traveling over two hundred 
miles in the round of their circuits, preaching nearly 
every day, and on Sundays three times, filling their 
several appointments once in four weeks. 

As the time for the visitation of the circuit preachers 
drew near, the people in the neighborhood began to so 
plan their business, that all able to walk through the 
forests — through mud, or snow, or both — from one-half 
to two miles, might gather in the log houses — dwelling- 
houses and school-houses — to listen to the preached 
Word, to pray and sing praises to God, to encourage 
one another, and bring old and young into the fold of 
Christ. 

The whole community then, so far as I knew, and 
for many years after, were entirely devoted to the 
work of the Methodist society there, and the promotion 



PARENT A GE— BIRTH— ED UCA TION. O 

of Methodism throughout that section of country ; and 
to this day the Methodist idea is the prevailing idea in 
the neighborhood, and Methodism holds the balance of 
power over an area of a hundred miles. That was Old 
Genesee Conference, as it is now, and will always be. 
And that wonderful growth and steadfastness of Chris- 
tianity was the result, almost entirely, of the fidelity, 
indomitable courage and executive ability of a noble 
Christian woman. She was the instrument and power, 
under the direction of the Holy Spirit, in bringing, 
first, my father, then many other good men, with 
their families, into the fold of Christ, following her as 
she followed Him. And such a follower ! I never knew 
that mother to lay down the armor — to sleep on her 
watch — to fail, in all kindness, to exhort, reprove, to 
warn, to commend the religion of Jesus Christ to all — 
up to the day of her death, December 18th, 1882, at 
the age of ninety-six. So I inherited the will and the 
power to be diligent in business, fer\'ent in spirit, 
serving the Lord. I very early felt the need of the 
new birth in Christ, and week after week, year after 
year, mourned over my alienation from God, and from 
time to time promised myself resignation to His will. 
Often, when alone in the forest, I imagined myself 
with an audience before me, pointing them to the 
Lamb of God. * 



6 HOW ''THE WAV WAS PREPARED. 

During an extensive revival in the summer and fall 
of 1832, in which Kev. William Buck, then a young 
minister, labored faithfully and zealously as the cir- 
cuit preacher, I was brought to see myself a sinner, in 
a more distinct and convincing light than ever before ; 
and under the preaching of Rev. Josiah L. Parrish, 
then of Pike county, New York, now a missionary in 
Oregon, I was enabled publicly to resolve to renounce 
the devil and all his works, and turn to God with full 
purpose of soul, to lay all on the altar of consecration. 
I heeded the call, and as soon as my means would 
allow, began preparations for my work. I went to 
Lima, New York, in 1839. At that time Schuyler 
Seager was principal of the seminary, which was one 
of the most efficient and popular institutions in the 
country. 

It was about that time that the attention of an 
earnest class of people was turned toward a new and 
growing radical institution at Oberlin, Ohio, founded 
mainly through the efforts of Mr. Shepard. Rev. Asa 
Mahan, of Cincinnati, Ohio, was called to the presi- 
dency; Charles G. Finney to the pastorate and the 
professorship of the theological department. Professor 
Morgan and Professor Tomes, formerly of Lane Semi- 
nary, were also called to professorships. Professor 
Tomes was a Kentuckian (from Augusta, Kentucky), 



PARENTAGE— BIRTH— EDUCATION. 7 

who, disgusted with slavery, had left his native state 
for one iu which no slavery could exist. 

I took license to preach in 1840, and in 1842 was 
ordained an elder in the Methodist Episcopal Church, 
and closed my course of study, graduating in 1844. 
One incident, more than anything else outside of my 
organization, controlled and intensified my sentiments 
on the slavery question. It was this: I went with my 
father and mother to Rushford to quarterly meeting 
when a boy, and we were assigned to the good, clean 
home of a pair of escaped slaves. One night after 
service I sat on the hearthstone before the fire, and 
listened to the Avoman's story of sorroAv. It covered 
the history of thirty years. She had been sold from 
home, separated from her husband and family, and all 
ties of affection broken. My heart wept, my anger was 
kindled, and antagonism to slavery was fixed upon me. 

"Father," I said, on going to our room, "when I get 
bigger they shall not do that;" and the resolve waxed 
stronger with my growth. 



CHAPTER II. 

Slavery Unconstitutional. 

T GEEW to manhood with a positive, innate sense of 
^ impartial liberty and equality, of inalienable right, 
■without regard to race, color, descent, sex or position. 
I never trained with the strong party simply because 
it was strong. From the time I heard that woman's 
story I felt the most intense hatred and contempt for 
slavery, as the vilest evil that ever existed; and yet I 
supposed the institution provided for and protected by 
the United States Constitution, and legally established 
by every slave state; and when, previous to investiga- 
tion, I repeatedly aided the slaves to escape in violation 
of law, I did it earnestly, honestly, in all good con- 
science toward God and man. 

Coming within the influence of active anti-slavery 
men at Oberlin, Ohio, I was led to examine the subject 
in the light of law and justice, and soon found the 
United States Constitution anti-slavery, and the insti- 
tution existing in violation of law. My conclusion in 
regard to the anti-slavery character of the Constitution 
of the United States was based on common law, on its 



SLAVERY UNCONSTITUTIONAL. 9 

interpretation by the whole civilized world, and the 
recognition of self-evident truth as the basis of that 
interpretation, viz. : 

"Where rights are infringed, where fundamental 
principles are overthrown, where the general system of 
the law is departed from, the legislative intention must 
be expressed with irresistible clearness, in order to 
induce a court of justice to suppose a design to effect 
such object." 

This conclusion enabled me to act without misgiv- 
ing, as to my obligation to the General Government. 
I was no longer under obligation to respect the evil 
institution as protected by the Government, but was 
free to condemn slavery and the slave code, — free to 
follow the promptings of duty. 

This was afterward supported by an acknowledg- 
ment in the United States Senate, by Senator Pratt of 
Maryland, in resistance to an amendment to the pending 
Fugitive Slave Law of 1850, offered by William H. 
Seward, Senator from New York: "That whenever any 
person, in any free state, shall be claimed as a fugitive 
from service, or labor, it shall be obligatory on the part 
of such claimant to prove that slavery exists in such 
state, by positive law." 

Senator Pratt said: "If the amendment offered by 
the Senator from New York shall prevail, the reclama- 



10 HOW ''THE WAV WAS PREPARED. 

tion of any slave from any state will be an impossibility, 
for not a State in the Union has slavery established by 
positive law." 

Finding, then, the diabolical institution unprovided 
for — finding it positively prohibited — finding it to be a 
conceded fact by our best statesmen, North and South, 
that not a state in the Union had slavery established by 
law, I concluded, upon the highest authority in the 
universe, that slavery was chronic rebellion, and that I 
was not only justified, but bound by the "higher law," 
to oppose it in defense of an oppressed people. From 
that time I never allowed an opportunity to aid the 
fugitives to pass unimproved ; but when men and women 
came to me, pleading the "Fatherhood of God," and 
the brotherhood of man, I did all in my power to set 
them free, subjecting myself to imprisonment and the 
deepest suffering. Forty-seven slaves I guided toward 
the North Star, in violation of the state codes of Vir- 
ginia and Kentucky. I piloted them through the 
forests, mostly by night, — girls, fair and white, dressed 
as ladies; men and boys, as gentlemen, or servants, — 
men in women's clothes, and women in men's clothes; 
boys dressed as girls, and girls as boys; on foot or 
on horseback, in buggies, carriages, common wagons, 
in and under loads of hay, straw, old furniture, boxes, 
and bags; crossed the Jordan of the slave, swimming, 



SLAVERY UNCONSTITUTIONAL. 11 

or wading chin deep, or in boats, or skiflfs, on rafts, 
and often on a pine log. And I never suffered one to 
be recaptured. None of them, so far as I have learned, 
have ever come to poverty, or to disgrace. I have 
visited a score of those families, finding them all indus- 
trious, frugal, prosperous, respectable citizens. 

For aiding those slaves to escape from their bond- 
age, I was twice imprisoned — in all seventeen years 
and four months ; and received, during the eight years 
from March first, 1854, to March first, 1862, thii-ty-five 
thousand, one hundred and five stripes from a leather 
strap fifteen to eighteen inches long, one and a half 
inches wide, and from one-quarter to three-eighths of 
an inch thick. It was of half -tanned leather, and fre- 
quently well soaked, so that it might burn the flesh 
more intensely. These floggings were not with a raw- 
hide or cowhide, but with a strap of leather attached to 
a handle of convenient size and length to inflict as 
much pain as possible, with as little real damage as 
possible to the working capacity. 



CHAPTER III. 

Aiding the Fugitives. 

'T^HE first slave I assisted to escape was Sam Johnson 
^ of West Virginia. It was in April, 1837, that, as 
I was gliding down the Ohio on a raft of lumber an 
acre in extent, I saw, on the Virginia side, a large, 
active-looking black man walking, with his axe on his 
shoulder. He was singing: 

" De col' frosty mornin' make er nigger feel good; 
Wid he axe on he sholer, he go joggin' to de wood." 

I hailed him. He said he had a wife and two chil- 
dren thirty or forty miles away. 
"Neber spec tu see 'em agin." 
"Why don't you run away? " I inquired. 
" Dumio whar tu go." 
"Get on here; I'll show you where to go.'' 
"Ah, white man berry onsartain; nigger mo' so." 

I argued the case. He came on board. I swung 
my raft to the Ohio bank, and, springing ashore, and 
throwing down axe and hat, he shuffled a jig upon free 
frozen soil, with a "hoop-pee;" then picking up hat 

12 



AIDING THE FUGITIVES. 13 

and axe, and Avaving a "good-bye,'' he was soon out of 
sight. 

There was a bend in the river, and wl^n we had 
rounded it, and came in sight of Mr. Schneider's, where 
Sam had, by my direction, taken refuge, he and all the 
family were on the bank waving hats and handkerchiefs. 
Eight weeks after, I returned, and at midnight was 
allowed to be put ashore in a yawl, as was customary in 
those days, and learned that Sam had gone to Michigan, 
or Canada, with one hundred and fifteen dollars, a part 
of which had been contributed. I heard nothing more 
of him for twelve years. 

A few days after I met Sam Johnson, we landed on 
the Kentucky side, opposite the Little Miami river. A 
tall, black woman of about eighty years came to the 
raft, and among other things said : 

"Chillun, yo's all frum free state, I reckon?" 

"Yes,"' I replied. 

"Now, I'se got seven chillun, fo' boys an' three 
gals, an' dey's neber married, kase ef dey do, dar chil- 
lun will be slaves too." 

"Well, auntie, why don't they go away?" 

"Oh, chile, ef dey had some one tu he'p 'um dey 
could get erway. Now, ef yo' all'd he'p um, dey could 
go all right." 

Finally it was agreed that they should come down 



14 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED. 

after dark with their clothes in bundles, which they 
did, and in the presence of their old rejoicing mother, 
stepped i^to boats, and were soon beyond Kentucky 
jurisdiction. Here we — Almon Carpenter and I — left 
them in our boat with directions to land, if practicable, 
just above, and make their way to the house of a 
Friend — a Quaker — near, and there tie up the boat. 
Next morning, visiting the spot, looking for the boat, 
w^e did not find it ; but pushing farther up the river 
we found it, and learned from another Friend, of the 
welfare of our charges. Of these people I heard 
nothing until after liberation from my first imprison- 
ment, September, or October, 1849 — twelve years later. 
I was standing on the street in Detroit, Michigan, one 
day, when a fine team, and wagon loaded with bags of 
wheat, attracted my attention, I thought I recognized 
Sam Johnson sitting on the loaded wagon, cracking 
his whip with an air of importance. I hailed him. 

"Hello, there! Whose team is that? " 

"Mine, and debts paid too." 

"Lucky for me, isn't it?" 

" Don't know about that." 

"You didn't know that I was your young master, 
eh?" 

"Don't know about that. I had a master once: 
now it depends on who is the strongest." 



AIDING THE FUGITIVES. 15 

Then looking at me awhile, he leaped from the 
wagon, shouting: 

"Dog my skin! ef you aint' the fella helped me er- 
way frum slavery!" and seizing me as I would an eight- 
year old boy, he danced about in glee. I went home 
with him that night — sixteen miles back into the 
country, and found him independently situated, with a 
good farm well improved and stocked; his wife and 
children had been recovered through his old friend 
Schneider, where he found his first free shelter on the 
banks of the Ohio — and they were well educated and 
promising. And I also found there the seven I had 
piloted to the mouth of the Little Miami a few days 
after Sam's liberation ; every one with a farm of eighty 
acres; and the men with wives, and the women with 
husbands, and all industrious and prosperous. 

But to return. Helen Payne was the next slave I 
helped to escape. I met her between Washington and 
Maysville, Kentucky, with carpet-bag in hand. I put 
her on board a steamer, went with her to Pittsburg, 
where I left her in good hands, and returned to Cincin- 
nati, Ohio. She afterward went to New York City. 

Upon my return to Cincinnati, finding some colored 
people in great peril, I crossed the river with fourteen 
in a scow and placed them beyond danger. A hair- 
breadth escape occurred during this crisis. One 



16 HOW ''THE WAY" WAS PREPARED. 

fearless, determined girl, hearing her pursuers talking, 
and recognizing her master's voice, hid herself undc 
the body of a large sycamore tree that lay on the river 
bank, so that her master, in his eager pursuit of the 
others, sprang upon the log, and jumped over her, as 
she lay concealed vmder it. They all made their 
escape. 

A short time after, I learned that a man, his wife, 
and three children, were in peril. They had traveled 
from East Tennessee and were secreted in Lexington; 
some one must be their Moses. I therefore started at 
nightfall, traveling by a compass and bull's-eye lantern 
at night, and lying in the cedars through the day. We 
were four days and nights on the road, raiding corn- 
fields and out-door ovens, and milking the cows, for sub- 
sistence. We crossed the river at last on a skipper 
constructed out of slabs and a few planks, and were 
out of danger. 

It was the very next day that, after resting until 
about sunset, I was awakened by the mistress of the 
house : 

" Mr. Fairbank, there is a boy hidden in the bushes 
on the Kentucky side, and they are hunting him with 
dogs. Get up quick, do, Mr. Fairbank!" 

I started up, and just in time to see the boy spring 
from a clump of bushes to a narrow cove-like bayou, 



AIDING THE FUGITIVES. 17 

and plunging in, crawl under the bank. Down came 
-jiS- liuman and canine hunters, leaping directly over, 
trom bank to bank, where the fugitive lay concealed 
with his nose just out of water. The dogs followed 
his track to the very edge of the bank, then leaping 
over to the other side, they ran round, and round, with 
noses to the ground, in great bewilderment. I watched 
with intense anxiety, expecting every moment to see 
them plunge into the water, and so discover his retreat ; 
but it seemed providential that he should be left un- 
harmed until darkness covered the Avorld, when I went 
with a skiff, and took him to a place of safety. 



CHAPTEE IV. 

In the Fifth Generation. 

TN June, 1842, at the foot of the mountains in Mont- 
-*■ gomery county, I think, I came upon an old 
plantation, with cattle and horses and slaves. Many of 
the slaves were so nearly of white blood, that they 
could be distinguished from the privileged class only 
by their short checked dresses, and short hair. The 
lord of the estate, an octogenarian, made me welcome 
to anything I desired. 

I became interested in a young slave girl of fifteen, 
who Avas the fifth in direct descent from her master, 
being the great-great-great-grand-daughter of a slave 
whom he took as his mistress at the age of fourteen, 
five being his own daughters, and all hy daughters, 
except the first, and all were his slaves. And now he 
was expecting to make this girl his mistress. 

I remained there, a guest of the family, two weeks, 
and became quite well acquainted with their habits, and 
felt sure I could run the risk of putting my hand 
against the authority of the state in defense of as 
lovely a young woman as there was in Kentucky. The 

18 



IN THE FIFTH GENERATION. 19 

fate in store for her seemed too horrible, and when I 
went away I promised to meet her and her mother at 
an appointed place, with preparations all made, to place 
the family — the mother and three daughters, beyond 
the power of the slaveholder. 

The time came. I was promptly on the spot, so 
were they; but no argument could prevail upon the 
mother to take her children and leave the state. He7' 
mother was behind, and she wanted to provide some 
way for her escape. So taking leave of mother and 
little sisters, — how they wept at parting from her! — the 
eldest girl took her seat in the carriage and we drove 
swiftly away. Once, during that long night-drive, we 
were halted by a ruffian springing from the bush and 
leveling a shotgun close to my face; but I thrust it 
aside in an instant, and covered him with a Colt's 
revolver. 

We arrived in Lexington — ninety-five miles — about 
half-past nine the next morning ; and the day after, took 
the train to Frankfort. There we boarded a steamer 
for Cincinnati, Ohio. Once in that city my way was 
clear. The old hero, Levi Coffin, president, director, and 
proprietor of the "Underground Railroad," was always 
grandly ready with advice. He went with me to one 
of his friends, who at once solved the problem by taking 
my prize into his own family and adopting her. 



CHAPTER Y. 

Emily Ward, 

"PMILY WARD was the property of a family of that 
^-^ name closely related to a mau who, from time to 
time, did me much evil. She was of a bright brunette 
complexion, and her age not over seventeen. She had 
been sold to slavetraders, and by them committed to 
the safekeeping of a family living in a two-story house 
facing the Ohio river. The house had a cellar, and an 
attic also, and in this attic she was confined to await 
the convenience of the traders to remove her to New 
Orleans. 

A messenger came to me with the intelligence o£ 
her situation, and I at once prepared to help her. I 
wrote a brief letter as follows: 

"I come to release you. Dress in boy's clothes 
quick, if you can, and come down from the window on a 
rope if you have one. If not, make one of blankets, 
and come down." 

I crossed on the ferry, found two large pine logs 
in the water near the place, and selected one as our 
ship. Then placing myself between two buildings, I 

20 



EMILY WARD. 21 

tossed pebbles against the window until I attracted her 
attention, and exhibited my letter — rolled up and tied 
with a string — in such a way as to indicate what I 
wanted. She let down a string, pulled up the letter, 
read it, nodded assent, and soon lowering her blanket 
rope, slid out on it, and down to the ground, and in a 
short time we were crossing the river. When we 
reached Cincinnati, Emily was placed in the care of the 
Apostle of Freedom, Levi Coffin, and his peerless wife, 
"Aunt Katie." We passed the night in intense excite- 
ment, not knoAving but some vigilant eye had followed 
our flight, and that in an unguarded moment the slave- 
hunters might pounce upon us. We watched through 
the long hours, planning many ways of escape ; but we 
were unmolested, and the next day was devoted to the 
fitting up of my ward for a northern journey, by the 
good ladies belonging to the families of S. P, Chase, 
Gamaliel Bailey, and Samuel Lewis. Nightfall found 
us ready to move to a place of greater security. Emily 
had been dressed in the most approved style, in the 
best silk, with kid gloves on her hands, and a veil 
covering her charming brunette face. My horse and 
buggy stood waiting a square away, and just as twilight 
began to fall we were ready to start. Levi looked from 
his south window and exclaimed: 

"Calvin, I think the hunters are looking for Emily! 



22 HOW ''THE WAY'' WAS PREPARED. 

There is the officer who makes it his business, and 
another man with him, coming right this way. Take 
Emily quick, go out through the back door into the 
street, turn the corner, and come around in front and 
go to the buggy." 

Emily looked — " There is my old master T 
In an instant we were out of the room and on the 
' sidew^alk, Emily holding my arm. AVhile we were 
passing along the eastern walk, turning the corner, 
approaching the front gate with an air of calm indiffer- 
ence, the hunters had been admitted to the house. 
They looked hurriedly, begged pardon for the intrusion, 
and hastened out to the front again in such a way as to 
arouse the most desperate apprehension for our safety. 
We had approached so near the gate, it was unsafe to 
retreat, or even slacken our steps, for fear of creating a 
suspicion of our identity. It was apparent that we 
were to come in contact with our foe, and all we could 
do was to maintain courage and composure. As we 
approached the gate with an appearance of careless 
security, the old, eagle-eyed, demon -hearted master 
opened it upon Emily, who walked next to the fence. 
He jostled her against me, and even crowded so near 
that it seemed, at the time, his purpose was inspection, 
and capture if he recognized his victim. All our hopes 
of safety were put to flight ; it seemed almost certain 



JOHN HAMILTON. 23 

that this one day of liberty was to be the first and the 
last for Emily Ward. Her heart beat so violently, 
so audibly, that I could distinctly hear it, as she stag- 
gered against me. But she did not betray her agitation. 

The instant the old master discovered his rudeness, 
he almost prostrated himself at the feet of the girl he 
sought, with manacles in his pocket for the hands and 
arms then gloved in kid, and draped in silk. He had 
not recognized her. 

"Oh! I beg your pardon, lady — I beg your pardon. 
Accept my apologies, sir, will you?" 

"Oh, certainly, certainly," I replied. 

They passed to the east, we to the west, and in five 
minutes we were driving, behind a fast horse, out of 
the city, and away from danger. It was a narrow 
escape, and we hardly dared to breathe freely, until we 
had put twenty miles or more between us and our 
enemies. A few days more, and this child of bondage 
was singing — her sorrows over — safe under the protec- 
tion of the British Lion. Subsequently she returned 
to the United States, and lived in peace and safety. 

John Hamilton. 

A few days after this rescue I met a young man 
named John Hamilton, thirsting for freedom, and 
espoused his cause. Remembering the pine log anch- 



24 HOW ''THE WAV WAS PREPARED. 

ored to the shore, where I found the one on which 
Emily escaped, I appropriated it, put him on board, 
and set sail. We had to sit astride it, but it was as 
safe for the fugitive as the "Great Eastern." I left 
this young man with Uncle Levi, as usual ; and keeping 
track of him, I am quite sure he was afterward shot in 
South Carolina, during an election campaign. 

The Stanton Family. 

I had just rescued Emily Ward and John Hamilton, 
when a whole family sold to a dealer in human 
bodies, cried out: 

"Come over to Kentucky, and help us!" 
Casey was an expert, and he and I at once laid our 
plans to go over to the Kentucky side for a load of 
straw. We constructed a rack just the size of the 
interior of the straw rack, two feet high, and strong 
enough to protect a part of the family under it, and 
proceeded to the barn of a free African, very near 
the Stanton family, who were promptly on the spot. We 
spread about one foot of straw on the bottom of the 
wagon, upon which five of the children were laid, and 
then three feet more of straw loaded over them. Upon 
this, Mr. and Mrs. Stanton, and the oldest son were 
placed, and carefully covered with another layer of the 
straw. Then we had a load worth twenty-four hundred 



THE STANTON FAMILY. 25 

dollars. Once in Cincinnati, there were as many places 
of safety as tlie number of fugitives demanded. There 
were a father, mother, and six children saved from the 
jaws of hell, through the exercise of charity, courage, 
and prudence, disciplined by experience. 



CHAPTER YI. 

Eliza. 

T NOW approach the most extraordinary incident in 
-*■ my history, except my long imprisonment. I can- 
not recall the exact date. I only remember that it was 
early in May, 1843, that my sympathy and patriotism 
were roused in behalf of one of the most beautiful and 
exquisite young girls one could expect to find in fi-ee- 
dom or slavery. She was the daughter of her master, 
whose name I withhold for laudable reasons, and was as 
free of African blood as Kate McFarland, being only 
one sixty-fourth African. She was self-educated, and 
accomplished in literature and social manners, in spite 
of the institution cursing her race; and her heartless, 
jealous mistress had doomed her to be sold on the 
block, hating her for her beauty and accomplishments. 
Eliza had been confined in an upper room of the Lex- 
ington jail. She recognized me as I was walking in 
the jail-yard, and drew my attention by tapping upon 
the window. I called upon her in her room, learned 
her situation, and hastened to Cincinnati to Levi Coffin, 

26 



ELIZA. 27 

then with him to Hon. S. P. Chase, Nicholas Longworth, 
Samuel Lewis and others, returning to Lexington with 
twenty-two hundred and seventy-five dollars, and a 
paper authorizing me to draw twenty-five thousand if 
necessary to save the girl. I was in%dncible, Eliza 
was assured; but she feared, as was natural, dreading 
the uncertainty, shrinking from the possibility of being 
offered up a sacrifice on the altar of lust and greed. 

There were two thousand people at that sale, repre- 
senting the wealth and culture of Boston, New York, 
Philadelphia, Baltimore, Cincinnati, Washington, New 
Orleans, Louisville, and Frankfort ; also the city of Lex- 
ington and vicinity. There were ladies and gentlemen, 
slave-masters and mistresses, and speculators in human 
chattels — all anxiously waiting. Hon. Robert Wick- 
liffe — brother of the late Charles A. Wickliffe, Post- 
master-General under John Tyler, — the master of five 
hundi'ed slaves, was there with his family. And a 
short, thick-necked, black-eyed Frenchman from New 
Orleans, the co-conspirator with the girl's mistress, was 
there. And I was there, and defied the powers of dark- 
ness to foil my purpose, my righteous purpose. I felt 
confident of my ability to compete with any man whose 
only stimulus was lust or greed, and rose above all 
thought of danger in the rescue of the hapless girl. 
At my left stood Eliza's aunt, a cool, intrepid, self- 



28 HOW ''THE WAY" WAS PREPARED. 

poised woman, and at my right were two counselors-at- 
law retained in my service. 

Upon the block, before all that gazing multitude, 
stood the auctioneer by his victim, who seemed ready 
to drop to the earth — not a man, with a touch of manly 
feeling, but the embodiment of Diabolus, trained and 
anxious for his work. He directed attention to the val- 
uable piece of property, using all his cultivated art to 
enhance its interest, calling particular attention to her 
exquisite qualities as a mistress for any gentleman. 
And this he kept prominent, in the most insinuating 
and vile manner, outraging common decency. 

Bids began at two hundred and fifty dollars, and 
went up to five hundred, when the more respectable 
men of the South left the field to the Frenchman and 
myself. 

When twelve hundred dollars was reached, my an- 
tagonist turned to me with an evil gleam in his eyes, 
and said: 

"How high are you going to bid?" 

"Higher than you do. Monsieur." 

And the bids rose to thirteen hundred. Again my 
enemy, shrugging his shoulders, nervously asked: 

"How high are you going to bid?" 

And again I replied: "Higher than you do, sir. 
You cannot raise money enough to take her." 



ELIZA. 29 

Our bidding had become slower, more cautious, each 
ready to take advantao^e of the other. Then the villain 
on the block, becoming impatient, raved and cursed, 
crying: "Give! give! give!" for the higher the bids 
rose, the more anxious he became. 

I bid fourteen hundred and fifty. My contestant 
stood silent. The hammer rose — trembled — lowered — 
rose — fell — and the fiend flushed, and quick as thought 
dropped his hammer, and unbuttoning Eliza's dress, 
threw it back, exhibiting to the gaze of two thousand 
people, her superb neck and breast, shouting in the 
true professional tone: 

"Look here, gentlemen! Who is going to lose such 
a chance as this ? Here is a girl fit to be the mistress 
of a king!'* 

A suppressed cry of shame, and contempt — of anger 
and grief — a bitter murmur of Kentucky wrath and 
disgust, rolled like a wave through that throng. South- 
ern women blushed, and Mr. Wickliffe hunjr his head 
for shame; and such exclamations as "Too bad!" 
"What a shame!" "Horrible!" could be heard on 
every side, from both North and South. 

Bids rose to fourteen hundi'ed and seventy-five. 
That was my bid. Then there was another lull in the 
contest, another moment of suspense. My antagonist 
eyed me viciously, and asked the third time : 



30 HOW ''THE WAV WAS PREPARED. 

"How high are you going to bid?" 

Now I thought it time to let him know my real 
purpose. 

"It is none of your business, sir; but understand 
that you cannot command money enough to take this 
girl." 

The auctioneer seemed at his wits' end, and then 
followed a scene at which civilization blushed, and 
angels wept, and the human heart sickened and turned 
away ; for to stimulate bidding, to appeal to and rouse 
the lowest passions in man, he turned his victim's pro- 
file to that excited crowd, and lifting her skirts, laid 
bare her beautiful, symmetrical body, from her feet to 
her waist, and with his brutal, sacrilegious hand smote 
her white flesh, exclaiming: 

"Ah! gentlemen, who is going to be the l^rinner of 
this prize ? Whose is the next bid ? " 

The people had forgotten their identity with the 
"Institution." They had lost their latitude, and their 
social level. The exhibition of a beautiful, helpless 
Caucasian girl, in the shambles of Eepublican Amer- 
ica, had taken all the aristocracy out of them. 

"Shame! shame!" they cried; and Boston and 
New Orleans shed tears, wept, side by side. 

The Frenchman bid fourteen hundred and eighty. 
The hammer rose high, quivered, lowered. Eliza gave 



ELIZA. 31 

me an appealing, agonized look, and her aunt turned 
on me a glance I shall never forget. 

"Are you all done? Once— twice — do I hear no 
more? th-r-e-e" — and the hammer quivered, as the 
Frenchman's face flushed with triumph. " Th-r-e-e " — 
and the hammer fell slowly 

^^ Fourteen hundred and eighfy-fiveP^ 

My contestant turned away, with an air of indiffer- 
ence. 

"Eighty-five — eighty -five — eighty-five. I'm going 
to sell this girl in one minute. Are you going to bid 
again?" The Frenchman shook his head. 

"Once — twice — th-r-e-e times — and gone." 

The hammer fell. She was mine. She fainted. 

"You've got her d — d cheap, sir," said the auc- 
tioneer. "What are you going to do with her?" 

"Free her, sir," I cried, and woke a cheer which rose 
to a true Kentucky shout that rent the air and rang 
"far and wide, proclaiming liberty to the captives of 
America, Russia, Brazil, and all the world." 

Eliza was then borne to the carriage of Mr. Wick- 
liffe, which was standing near — borne by the repre- 
sentatives of wealth and power, and driven to her aunt's 
in the city, and attended by the Slife of Kentucky — a 
retinue fit to be the escort of a princess. Her free 



32 HOW ''THE WAV WAS PREPARED. 

papers were soon made legal, and as I entered the room 
adjoining the one she occupied, I heard her say: 

"Auntie, where is my savior?" 

Her aunt not being in the room, the question was 
answered by an old, Christian, free black woman, 
physically and morally a facsimile of "Sojourner 
Truth" : 

" Child, your Savior is in heaven. Yes, honey, your 
Savior is in heaven." 

"No, auntie, I mean Mr. Fairbank." 

Just then I stepped into the room, and handing her 
the folded papers, said: 

"Here I am, Eliza." 

"Mr. Fairbank, what are you going to do with me?" 

"Nothing; you can do for yourself." 

" But I belong to you." 

" No, you have your free papers. You are as free 
as I am." 

She looked, she read. 

"Am I dreaming?" she murmured, "am I dream- 
ing?" 

A lady who had attended her from the sale said: 
"Let me see the papers;" and looking them over care- 
fully, and passing them back, said: "Eliza, you are as 
free as Governor Letcher." 



ELIZA. 33 

But it was difficult for her to realize the blessed 
truth. She turned the papers over and over — 

"I must be dreaming." 

"No, honey," said the old colored woman, — "no, 
you are free." 

"Oh, is it possible? Is it possible? Blessed Lord! 
Who has done this for me ! It is surely the work of my 
Jesus. Oh, my blessed Lord, I am committed to Thee 
for life and death! Hallelujah! Praise the Lord!" 

"Mr. Fairbank, what is your will, that I may obey?" 
she asked, when her transport of joy was over. 

"Eliza, I would like to take you to Cincinnati, 
place you in a family of wealth and high social position 
in which you can be an equal, finish youi* education 
and live the remainder of your life in peace, plenty, 
honor and usefulness." 

"Mr. Fairbank, I will go wherever you wish to 
take me." 

It was decided. After four days we took the train 
for Frankfort, and thence by boat to Cincinnati. There 
she was educated, there she married, and has for forty- 
three years filled a position of honor and usefulness in 
society, and none but her husband and a few chosen 
friends know that she was ever a slave, or that she has 
a drop of Afi'ican blood in her veins. 

Her master was well-disposed. He had, just before 



34 HOW ''THE WAY" WAS PREPARED. 

the sale, paid twenty thousand dollars as the price of 
generosity toward an unlucky friend. It was not his 
wish that she should be sold, and he came to me and 
said : 

"Here, Mr. Fairbank — here is one hundi-ed dollars; 
all that I have. Take seventy-five of it, save my child 
if you can. Keep the money, no matter what you have 
to pay for Eliza." 

But no need to dwell any longer on this sale. It 
was the most remarkable I ever witnessed. 

William Minnis 

was willed free by his master upon his death in Jessa- 
mine county, Kentucky, about fifteen miles from Lex- 
ington. He, as well as the other servants made free 
by this will, was kept in entire ignorance, even by the 
executor of the will, and others privy to it, whose sworn 
or implied oath bound them to inform such legatees of 
their right. William, knowing nothing of the law, or 
the fact, raised no voice, — entered no protest, which 
might have saved him and his friends indescribable 
anguish, a whole year's servitude at Little Rock, Arkan- 
sas, where he was sold by his master's son and successor, 
and his friends in Lexington, Kentucky, and Cincinnati, 
Ohio, heavy expenditure and extreme peril. 

Ten months had passed away since July, 1842, and 



WILLIAM MINNIS. 35 

Dennis Seals — I think his name was Dennis — had 
brooded over the fate of a boy for whose person and 
family he had cherished the most kindly attachment. 
He, with Nancy Straus in the city, Father Ferril, a 
minister of high repute in the city of Lexington, Henry 
Boyd, William Watson, Kitty Dorum, the Morrises and 
Taylors, and others in Cincinnati, Ohio, were soon in 
alliance, pledged in any amount necessary for the vin- 
dication of the rights of this worthy young slave. 

May was fairly ushered. Eliza had been duly in- 
ducted into her new home. Seals at once — as the boys 
say — "caught on." The case of Eliza — her sale — 
rescue — in Lexington at the mouth of hell, had stirred 
the public, high and low, to a ferment; and my name 
was in the mind and mouth of every one. Hope, glory, 
and shame excited the masses — hope for the oppressed, 
glory in the pluck of the man who dared, and shame 
for the crime of Kentucky. Seals drank of the hope 
and glory. He appeared in Cincinnati soon as we 
arrived; sought me out; sought out the "sentinels;" 
and all in convention, with the acquiescence and advice 
of the old hero, Levi Coffin, laid a plan for the rescue. 
I was summoned before the council, and approved the 
plan, I was to undertake the very hazardous enter- 
prise. 

With two hundred and fifty dollars in my hands I 



36 HOW ''THE WAY" WAS PREPARED. 

bade farewell to friends, country, and life. I felt that 
the chances for life and liberty were against me: to go 
into wild Arkansas upon an errand of charity in behalf 
of an unknown boy whose character and physique were 
entirely strange to me — against a favorite idea and 
institution — among a wild, half-civilized, half -barbarous 
people who valued life less than money, and their social 
cornerstone, — less than to brook an insult. But the 
Rubicon was crossed. 

I left Cincinnati on the 13th day of May, 1843, I 
think, and arrived in Little Rock sometime during the 
16th, and began a careful, diligent inquiry for my boy. 
Every one scanned me with suspicion. There were 
three classes : the ruling, upper class of whites ; the poor 
" white trash," who were, morally and intellectually, on 
a level with or below the slaves they watched for their 
subsistence; and the slave. The whites suspected the 
stranger, if he appeared at all in command of himself, 
as an enemy to the "Divine Institution." The slave, as 
an enemy to his race, — seeking bargains in human 
property. So, I was held at arm's-length by one, and 
closely, most ingeniously and treacherously interviewed 
by the other. But I had been in the world too long, 
and seen too much of men and things to be drawn on 
and sold. 

I put up at a hotel in which, after four weeks' care- 



WILLIAM MIKNIS. 37 

fill, apparently careless, indifferent investigation I dis- 
covered that William Vas a servant, — hired out by his 
master, who lived in another part of the city. I tried 
all plans to learn the names of the men, and their integ- 
rity, that I might make some inquiry for my boy. 
After about four weeks I conceived a plan to call for a 
"60?/" to carry my carpet-sack to the boat, to take a 
short trip to the next town ; and calling one of the ser- 
vants, I said: "Boy, see here! take this to the boat for 
me." 

"Mas', dat not my work. Dat Bill's work. He do 
dat are work." 

Well, now, I thought, I've got so much ; maybe I've 
found my boy; and Dimond called out, 

"Bill! see here. Dis here geman want you. 

"Bill" took my bag; and all quiet, a little way 
out I ventured to ask, — "What is your name?" 

"William Minnis." 

Now, just imagine my surprise. 

"How long have you been in this city?" 

"Well, massa, jis' about a year ago I lef Lexing- 
ton, Kentucky. I was sol' to de traider, Pullum, an' 
he fotch me here an' sol' me. I belongs to Mr. Bren- 
nan, an' he hires me out here at de hotel." 

There! all in a lump I had the whole story. 

"Did your master live in Jessamine county?" 



38 HOW ''THE WAY" WAS PREPARED. 

"Yes, sir." 

"He died, and his son sold you, eh?" 

"Yes, sir. Did you know him?" 

" Yes. William, did you know Dennis Seals, and 
Nancy Straus, and Father Ferril ?" 

"Yes, sir." 

"Did you ever know that your master willed you 
free before he died? and that your young master sold 
you, knowing all about it?" 

" No, sir, I did not." 

That quite overcame him. He panted like a scared 
bird. I said to him: "Go back with my bag. I'll not 
take the boat. Come to my room to-night as early as 
you can safely." 

After four weeks I had found out the riddle. I had 
already made the acquaintance of a Creole-French 
barber and a New-England teacher — a lady skilled in 
portraiture. I had, after four weeks' careful, prudent, 
anxious, mostly reticent inquiry, found the object of 
my mission. 

William Minnis was a well-developed, finely-organ- 
ized, smooth, handsome mulatto of eighteen, worth, 
probably, in that vicinity, eight hundred dollars. I 
was satisfied at once of his integrity; and, without the 
least restraint, divulged to him the whole secret. Of 
course, there was the possibility of danger — of indis- 



WILLIAM MINNIS. 39 

creet communication, — of inconsidei'ate words — even of 
treachery. But I could discover nothing from which I 
could draw the conclusion of the faintest probability 
of danger arising from either. 

Now, for MY PLAN: my French-Creole I had found 
voluntarily, deeply interested in the future well-being — 
the oppressed side of his oppressed people. I confided 
in him. I withhold his name, not from any sense of 
danger to any one — not from policy, but because it was 
so peculiarly French, that, though I cultivated a pleas- 
ant acquaintance with him for five weeks, it had evapo- 
rated through the law of association in five more weeks, 
so that I entertained not the slightest conception of its 
form. 

My other assistant married and settled in Arkansas, 
and, for aught I know, may be living in that vicinity 
to-day — among a people to whom such antecedents 
would not only not be popular, but decidedly and 
dangerously unpopidar. 

That night William met me in my room. Our 
plan, in a nut-shell, was: 1. To find a man like whom 
William could be made to appear — wig, beard, mus- 
tache, etc. William knew a young man from up the 
river, Mr. Young, with whom Mr. Brennan had formed 
the slightest acquaintance, to whom, under like circum- 
stances — like dress, hair, beard, and mustache, he bore 



40 HOW "THE WAV WAS PREPARED. 

a very strong physical resemblance, — a real facsimile. 

2. My Frenchman could "do him up brown" in all 
that, so as to pass for Mr. Young: long black hair, a 
wig, whiskers and mustache, in true Southern style. 

3. My Yankee girl could bring the complexion, already 
fair, to any required shade. This we decided next day. 

4. A certain boat left the wharf about twilight for her 
trip to Cincinnati. We must go on that — the same boat 
which had just left. 5. Mr. Brennan often took this 
boat for Vicksburg, where he was concerned in business. 
In case of such a concurrence — the master and slave 
meeting — if necessarily involving social etiquette, Mr. 
Minnis must be ready to play Mr. Young. 

Everything was settled as to manner. The time of 
escape must be left for circumstances to decide; and 
that would probably be a word and a move. My bag 
was always packed after noon. 

Finally, on the evening before the departure of the 
boat, early in July — about the fourth, — we took the risk 
of our recitation, or rehearsal, in the private room of 
our Frenchman, in presence of our Yankee girl. All 
was most complete. Minnis presented a facsimile of 
the Southerner we wished him to personate — good 
height, graceful in bearing ; speech, anent-dialect. 

Be it remembered, most Southern people speak with 
the same provincialism — anent-dialect and tone, as 



WILLIAM MINNIS. 41 

the slaves who serve them; as instances, Mr. Berrien, 
of Georgia, was accustomed to say "dis here," "dat ar." 
Captain Newton Craig, my old prison-keeper, used 
to say, "//irtr," for there; "/ar," for fair; ''Farbank,^' 
for Fairbank. So, with a little training Minnis 
presented a fine specimen of a Southern chevalier. 
I had felt all through the day — it was the fourth of 
July — that the time was imminent; that we must 
be like the bird watching the approach of an enemy — 

" Nor willed to go, nor dared to stay, 
But, warbling mellow, sped away." 

The sun had gone behind the bluff. Our boat 
would be on the move in thirty minutes. The word 
came to me with an impression, 

" Such as a sudden passing bell 
Makes, though but for a stranger's knell." 

In a moment I was off, Mr. Young (?) by my side — 
gold-headed cane in hand. My bill had been settled. 
Mr. Young accidentally struck my way; and in a few 
minutes we were in the cabin. The Rubicon had been 
crossed. Our bridges were burned behind us. It was 
now, " liberty or death.'''' There was nothing, now, to 
be gained by our close, particular association; and we 
simply associated as the other passengers. 

But, — Mr. Young had signified to me in an earnest 
way, — betraying no trepidation noticeable by others, 



42 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED. 

"Mr. Brennan is on the boat." I said, apparently in a 
joke, '^Put on airs.'*'' 

Very soon, walking at leisure in the cabin, filled 
with business men and pleasure-seekers, they met — 
recognized with some surprise. — 

"Mr. Brennan!" 

"Mr. Young!" 

"O.' — fine evening.'''' 

" Very, sir, very.''"' 

And the colloquy ended. The crisis had been 
passed. Our plans had more than met our expectations. 

We retired early ; and so avoided a second encounter, 
which might possibly have resulted in harm to us both. 
When morning daAvned, the danger had passed. Mr. 
Brennan had left the boat, taking a down-river craft for 
Vicksburg. 

Now, maybe all this had to be done by the instru- 
mentality of lies. I don't think so. It was strategy, 
to avoid injustice. That is no lie. " A lie is the mis- 
representation of the trutli to the injury of some party 
having a right to know the truth.'''' — Pres. Mahan. 

Mr. Minnis had changed his name from William 
Minnis to John Crawford, by which I knew him after- 
ward. We were several days reaching Cincinnati, the 
boat stopping at all towns of any importance for trade. 

I said, a little while ago, "-the danger had passed.'''' 



WILLIAM MINNIS. 43 

Often, when we think we are out of danger we are in 
danger. Pullum, the slave-trader of the vicinity of 
Lexington, Kentucky — whom I knew well — who had 
sold Mr. Crawford (Minnis) at Little Rock, was at 
Memphis, Tennessee, transacting the same class of busi- 
ness. That was his only business. While we lay 
there waiting the affairs of the boat he came on board, 
and recognized me at once. We had a long and varied 
talk, about everything; and especially about Little 
Rock; and among other things he spoke of a '■'■Minnis 
hoy whom I sold there. He had belonged to Minnis, 
of Jessamine county. Did you know him?" 

" Oh, yes. He is owned by Mr. Brennan — hired at 
the Little Rock House. He makes a good steward." 

" Yes, he's smart. I made three hundred dollars 
on him." 

All this time John Crawford was giving the closest 
attention — heard nearly every word — walked pompously 
to and fro swinging his gold-headed cane in true 
Southern style. 

After an hour's talk, and trepidation lest the slave- 
trader might identify the gentleman once a part of his 
stock in trade, the bell rang as a signal to weigh anchor, 
and our unwelcome visitor, politely bowing all around, 
bade us '■'good bye,'''' and left the boat. We were once 
more relieved. 



44 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED. 

Several times before reachinof Cincinnati I recoof- 
nized and was recognized by Kentuckians, but not 
under circumstances to excite any great alarm. We 
were at last safe in Cincinnati, in care of friends; but 
deeming the situation extremely dangerous, under the 
Black laws of Ohio, — (though free by will, all papers 
on the subject being destroyed through the treachery 
of officials whose office bound them in fidelity to all 
persons, he was a ^^ nig gar;'''' and "a black man has no 
rights which a white man is hound to I'cspect. — Chief 
Justice Taney), — Crawford took the "flood of fortune," 
and went to Canada. I saw him in Toronto in 1851. 
Next year he went to California. At the outbreak of 
the Eebellion he allied himself with the army, and, 
upon the reception of the black man as a soldier, 
" shouldered arms" for the Union. 



CHAPTER VII. 

My First Imprisonment. 

T WAS passing Chapel Hall at Oberliu, Ohio, in 
-*- August, 1844, when a call from an upper window 
drew my attention. 

"Brother Fairbauk!" 

It was John M. Brown, now Eev. John M. Brown, 
D.D., a bishop in the African Methodist Episcopal 
Church, and resident at Washington, The case of Gil- 
son Berry, an escaped slave, whose wife and babies had 
been left behind, was laid before me, as all such cases 
usually were. I heard the call, espoused his cause, 
and after commencement left for Lexington, Kentucky, 
where I found Miss Delia A. Webster of Vergennes, 
Vermont, then teaching in the city, and ready to second 
my efforts. We soon found the escape of the wife 
impracticable, without the combination of some other 
worthy person. An appointment was made for her 
rescue, but for reasons never explained to me, she did 
not meet the appointment. She was probably detected, 
and stopped, or so closely watched as to render her 
escape dangerous, and perhaps impossible. 

4,5 



46 HOW ''THE WAY" WAS PREPARED. 

Another case came before us : that of Lewis Hayden, 
now Hon. Lewis Hayden. 

Mr. Hayden was a waiter at the Brennan House. To 
tny question: 

"Why do you want your freedom?" he replied: 

"Because I'm a man." 

I was deeply interested in him, and at once began 
to plan a way for his escape. I went to Ripley, Ohio, 
where, Dr. Blanchard of Cincinnati had informed me, 
I would find friends of the fugitives ; and it was not 
only to see them, but to learn the way to them, that I 
took the trip. 

While crossing on the ferry in the morning, from 
the Kentucky side, with my horse, I noticed a man above 
me, crossing in a skiff, and concluded instantly that he 
would be a good source of information. It proved true. 
He was Pete Driscol, a spy, a patroller, whose business 
was the detection, and if possible the capture, of fugi- 
tive slaves. I soon met him, when the following con- 
versation took place : 

"Mister, are you a Kentuckian?" 

"Yes." 

"Well, what kind of a place is this?" 

"It is a black, dirty, Abolition hole, sir." 

So far, so good — just what I wanted to know; and 
now how to fool him without telling an absolute lie. * I 



MY FIRST IMPRISONMENT. 47 

must give him a false impression, so that no suspicion 
would be roused. 

"Is not this a great hiding place for runaway 
slaves?" 

"Yes." 

"Well, I'm just from Lexington, and I am interested 
in discovering the hiding places among the Abolition- 
ists." 

"Well, sir, you see that red house there?" 

"Yes." 

" There Eli C Collins lives ; and in thai house Levi 
Collins lives; and Dr. Rankin occupies the one on the 
hill." 

I went to Collins', as directed by my Kentuckian, and 
as he advised me to pass for a good Abolitionist I did 
so. I also went to Dr. Eankin's ; but while I was on 
my way to his house, the people, having seen me with 
Pete Driscol, set me down as a slave-hunter, and sent 
young Collins ahead of me, to put the family on their 
guard. So I learned nothing there, and supposed that 
I had been wrongly advised. I returned to Mr. 
Eli C. Collins' ; was invited to dine ; was at the table, 
when young Collins came in, and with fury in his man- 
ner, ordered me to leave the house — that I was a spy, 
a slave-hunter. He was plucky, but I j&nished my 
dinner, and afterward tried to convince them of my 



48 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED. 

oneness with them in the cause. And all the time Eli 
Collins advised the largest charity. 

"Maybe he is a friend. We will see when the time 
comes." 

I then said : "I like your zeal in this cause, even 
though it makes you reluctant to believe in me." 

It was altogether an unpleasant experience, for I 
came near being mobbed by the girls of a hotel, and 
others gathered there to talk over the case, and only 
escaped by hastening away from the house. 

On Saturday, the 28th day of September, 1844, at 
eight P. M., in company with Miss Webster, and the 
Haydens, father, mother, and one son, I started from 
Lexington for Ohio, wdth hack and driver (a slave). 
The boy, in times of danger, was stowed away under 
the seat of his father and mother, and they acted as 
servants, or passed as white lady and gentleman, veiled 
and cloaked, as occasion required. At Millersburg, 
twenty-four miles out fi'om Lexington, we lost a horse 
from bots, stood an hour and a half in the street, took 
refreshments, played Yankee, changed horses, escaped 
by strategy, crossed the Ohio river at nine o'clock 
in the morning in great danger, changed teams two 
miles out in Ohio, passed through Ripley, and back 
four miles to Hopkins', where I left the Hayden family. 
Then I returned to Eli C. Collins' at Ripley, where I 



MY FIRST IMPRISONMENT. 49 

had left Miss AVebster, and with her returned to Ken- 
tucky, resting at AVashington, four miles south of 
Maysville. This town is on the Ohio river, about 
sixty miles from Cincinnati, and sixty-four miles from 
Lexington, and Hopkins' is fourteen miles beyond, 
making seventy-eight miles. At Millersburg we were 
met, and followed closely into Lexington, so that there 
was no escape; and after making a hundred and fifty- 
six miles in forty-eight hours, we were driven to the 
jail, on Monday evening at eight o'clock, to await the 
result. 

I had, in my trepidation, retained on my person a 
letter signed "Frater," addressed to parties in Oberlin, 
not in my Avriting, which was the only testimony that 
could be brought against either Miss Webster, or my- 
self. Three indictments were found against us, suffi- 
cient to imprison us for sixty years. We employed 
Sam Shy and Leslie Coombs as our attorneys ; then, in 
order to work to better advantage, we had the cases 
separated, upon the plea, in behalf of Miss Webster, 
that mtj case being tried upon the same indictment 
wnth hers, what was evidence against me would be 
evidence against her and therefore prejudicial to her 
case. 

Miss Webster's father, Benaiah Webster, came on 
from Vermont, and every influence to be commanded 

4 



50 HOW ''THE WAV WAS PREPARED. 

was brought into requisition for her acquittal ; but she 
was tried and sentenced for two years, upon the strength 
of that letter found on my person. Mark this, so that 
when you come to my trial in Louisville before Judge 
Bullock, in February, 1852, you can see how much 
liberty courts use in interpreting common law. 

The jail was constantly filled with slaves brought 
in for sale, and often visited by buyers from the sur- 
rounding country, and from New Orleans, for that 
market. There were also in the jail Robert Bartley, of 
South Carolina, convicted of counterfeiting; Jerry 
Bran, a slave, who had attempted to escape, had got 
into Ohio, vv'as captured, brought back, and put in jail 
for sale; John Minnis, sent to jail on suspicion of 
longing for freedom ; and Eichard Moore, sentenced to 
be hanged for breaking the neck of his brutal mistress, 
who had abused him in ways too vile to be spoken of in 
these pages. 

I had relinquished all hope of acquittal ; for though 
no legitimate testimony could be brought against me, I 
realized from Miss Webster's case, that any testimony, 
however slight or indirect, would be used in favor of 
slavery, and for the punishment of those working 
agamst it. So I began to look about for a way of 
escape. 

Years before, some prisoners had broken through 



MY FIRST IMPRISONMENT. 51 

the wall on the north side of the jail-yard, and escaped, 
and the county had put oak planks over the break — after 
replacing the stones without mortar — and fastened 
these planks with iron bars running through from one 
side to the other. The planks had become warped, and 
cracked, and I found that by working them up and 
down, I could break the iron bars. Then the planks 
could be removed, then the stone, so that whoever 
wanted to escape, could do so. 

I was in stiff irons, weighing twenty-four pounds, 
and twenty-four inches long. The time for escape was 
fixed for the first Sunday in November. Bran went out 
at the breakfast hour, broke the bars, took off the planks, 
pulled out some stones, then replaced it all again, until 
dinner time, when Bartley, Bran, Minnis, and two other 
slaves, escaped, and had been gone an hour before it 
was known. Two of them I heard nothing from, but 
Bartley escaped, Minnis went back to his mistress, and 
Bran wrote, soon after, that he was earning a dollar 
and a half a day, smoking Spanish cigars at night, and 
no master to thank for it all. 

After they were gone, Kichard secured two of the 
bars from the wall, and hid them in the stove-pipe pro- 
jecting from our window, so that if we should need 
them when our turn came to try and escape, they would 
be on hand. Very soon we made an attempt to break 



52 HOW ''THE WAV WAS PREPARED. 

jail. Night fell, we commenced. It was Tuesday 
night, and Richard was to be executed on Friday. All 
night we labored, sometimes together, sometimes sepa- 
rately, standing on stools, the heavy irons on my 
ankles cutting cruelly into the flesh; but five o'clock 
struck, morning had come, and found us still there. 
" Death struck, I ceased the tide to stem." 

Richard fell despairingly upon the floor. "Oh! 
I'm a dead man!" 

My hands, in the palms, were worn deep into the 
flesh, and bleeding; my beard was filled with dry lime 
mortar ; my hair like the brush of a sweep. I was a 
frightful sight. When the jailor came in, he looked 
around in amazement. 

"Who did this?" 

"Dick and I." 

"I'll fix you for slow traveling," he said grimly; 
and we were then handcuffed together, day and night, 
until a short time before Dick was taken out for execu- 
tion. His peace was fully made with God. The morn- 
ing of the execution, when the military arrived, and 
the door swung open, we were found on our knees, 
commending that soul to Him who had given it, and 
the armed men stood silent and awestruck in the pres- 
ence of Jehovah, and the pleading dying man. He 
finished his course in peace. 



MY FIRST IMPRISONMENT. ~),i 

I had petitioned the legislature and obtained the 
passage of a bill giving me a change of venue to Paris, 
Bourbon county; but the governor, William Owsley, 
having been petitioned for Miss Webster's release, and 
refusing to grant her pardon until I came to trial, I 
waived my claim, instructed His Excellency not to 
make it a law by fixing his signature, and went at once 
to trial, pleaded not guilty, selected a jury, then 
changing my plea, pleaded guilty by Kentucky statutes, 
and argued my own case. 

In my plea to the jury I said: "Gentlemen of the 
jury, 'but for the grace of God there goes John Bun- 
yan.' Had I been born and educated here, I might 
have been as you are. But thank God I am what I 
am, and I would that ye all were as I am, except these 
bonds. Your Honm*, and gentlemen of the jury, are 
you aware tliat^y me strict rules of legal interpre- 
tation you have no legal slavery? that there is not a 
slave legally held in the United States of America? 
There is not a state in the Union in which slavery 
exists by positive law." 

But I was convicted, and my punishment fixed at 
fifteen years in the Kentucky penitentiary at Frankfort, 
at hard labor. I was conveyed there on the 18th day 
of February, 1845, my head shaven close, I dressed in 
stripes and put to sawing stone. 



CHAPTER YIII. 
My Incarceration. 

CAPTAIN .NEWTON CEAIG, the warden, was very 
considerate of me, treated me much better than I 
had expected he would, giving me a choice of labor, 
and in many other ways treating me with respect. He 
was a man of large self-esteem, courted the regard of 
wise people, thoiight well of Yankee excellence, and 
therefore bent his energies to signalize his magnanim- 
ity in our case. I selected shoemaking as my work, 
and labored at the trade for about three years. But 
my sedentary life, my worry and dissatisfaction with 
imprisonment, and the poor food — old, fat, greasy bacon 
— and the bad air in the cell where I slept every night, 
soon undermined my health. Dyspepsia fastened upon 
me, and I was changed to the hospital as steward. 
Sometimes I went into the cooper-shop, and sometimes 
at other work favoring proper exercise. 

During this imprisonment I was supplied with 
money by James Canning Fuller, of New York, when- 
ever I wrote for it, and after his death, by his widow, 
Lydia Fuller, and other friends and relatives. Mr. 



54 



MY INCARCERATION. 55 

Haydeu of Bostou had been active in enlisting sympa- 
thy in my behalf, in and about Boston. Captain New- 
ton Craig was in correspondence with gentlemen and 
ladies in Boston of such a nature as to conciliate his 
dissatisfied mind and temper, and promise some remu- 
neration to the parties claiming redress for the loss of 
their slaves. Benjamin Howard, Francis Jackson, and 
Ellis Gray Loring, were parties on each side to pay and 
receive a stipulated sum — six hundred dollars — Avhen- 
ever my release should be certified to by myself in 
Ohio. 

At the same time that these measures were in con- 
templation, my father was also in correspondence with 
Captain Craig, and securing petitions from the people 
of Allegany and Wyoming counties, and in other ways 
arranging his affairs so as to be able to leave home and 
come to my relief. He arrived in Frankfort April 5th, 
1849, leaving my mother and sisters in my brother's 
care, I had been a little over four years in the prison, 
and had won the respect of the citizens of Kentucky by 
my prudent behavior, and there was a strong sentiment 
in favor of my liberation. 

Upon my father's arrival in Kentucky with large 
petitions from Allegany and Wyoming counties. New 
York, he very easily obtained Governor Crittenden's 
promise to grant my pardon as soon as a petition from 



50 HOW ''THE WAY" WAS PREPARED. 

Lexington with the names of Judge Buckner, Common- 
weal tli- Attorney Robinson, the jury, the claimants of 
the slaves, and Hon. Henry Clay could be secured. 
This was accomplished early in June. But now some- 
thing else interfered. The question of emancijmtion 
was to come before the people in the August election. 
The question was not, "Shall the constitution be 
changed by convention?" but, whether anti-slavery or 
pro-slavery men should sit in the convention. The 
Governor made the plea that he feared my pardon at 
that time would prejudice the election, and decided to 
wait until after the election was over. 

Cholera was raging at that time, and carrying off 
the people in great numbers. My father was unaccli- 
mated, and Captain Craig and I urged him to leave the 
state, to go home, and protect himself from the terrible 
epidemic. But no persuasions could induce him to 
leave me in my sore strait. He went to Lexington, en- 
larged the petition, was attacked by cholera, recovered 
apparently, relapsed, and died Saturday night, July 7th, 
1849, and was buried by and among strangers. 







CHAPTER IX. 
Pardoned by Governor John J. Crittenden. 

N the twenty-third of August, 1849, after an impris- 
onment of four years, ten months and twenty-four 
days, I received my pardon. All my savings were 
gone, and I was somewhat broken in health. On the 
24th I left for Madison, Indiana, where I obtained 
lodgings with Wright Kay, the famous slavehunter of 
that section. It was the first comfortable night's rest 
for near five years. 

In this chapter I shall give some incidents of my 
jail life, before finally closing its account. While I 
was in prison, there sprang up, through my influence, 
and that of others, a lively interest in religion. We 
had Sunday-schools and prayer-m'eetings, and I often 
preached to the prisoners, and others who came in out 
5f curiosity. I had a friend in a young Baptist minis- 
ter in Western New York — Isaac Wade — who came to 
see me, and soon published letters stating what I had 
told him of our school. Upon this, Rev. William Buck, 
a Baptist minister fi"om Louisville, called upon me in 
the presence of Captain Craig, who was also a Baptist, 



58 HOW ''THE WAY" WAS PREPARED. 

to know of its truth. He seemed astonislied, and wished 
me to explain how I justified myself, being also a 
prisoner. I did so in a letter as follows: 

"First — Paul preached in prison, in which he had 
been confined for violation of law. Why not I ? Second 
— The prisoners wanted instruction and encouragement. 
Third — That neither the verdict of men, nor the limit- 
ation of walls, could in anywise change the need, power 
and application of the Gospel. Fourth — If a prisoner 
may enjoy, he may also teach the Gospel, and I am a 
child of the King." 

Early in my imprisonment, a very nice, well-formed 
boy of fifteen was sent to the prison for stealing a 
horse-blanket. Captain Craig, confiding in my integ- 
rity, and taking a liking to the lad, committed him to 
my keeping, as my pupil, ward, and room-mate. I took 
him, taught and guided him for six months. One day 
Governor William Owsley was in the staveshop. I 
spoke with him, and as he left, I followed him out, and 
said: 

" Governor, if you can find cause to send that boy 
home, you will confer a great blessing on him, his 
mother, the community, the state, and the world. 
Every such thing counts. He has had lesson enough; 
any longer imprisonment will spoil him." 

The boy was pardoned the next week. 



PARDONED BY GOVERNOR CRITTENDEN. r»U 

William Driver was the next one committed to my 
care, in the spring of 1849, and was my room-mate up 
to the day of my liberation. When I left, I promised 
to do my utmost for his release, and wrote a petition 
to Governor Crittenden, and sent it to the boy's mother, 
with a letter to this effect: 

" I w^as a prisoner wdth your son. After reading 
this letter, destroy it, and don't let any one know wdio 
wrote this petition, but get the judge, the common- 
wealth-attorney, the sheriff, and the jury to sign it, 
then as many more as you can, and go to Governor 
Crittenden with it, and he will pardon your boy." 

She followed my instructions, and in two weeks her 
son was pardoned, and free. So ends the story of my 
first imprisonment and pardon. 



CHAPTER X. 

Among Old Friends. 

T MADE my way to Cincinnati, and sought out ray 
-^ old comrades in tlie lioly work for humanity 
against oppression. But I must state here that the 
extraordinary fact of my imprisonment for an act of 
charity, the death of my father as a sacrifice to the 
ambition of the state executive, and the spleen of an 
inglorious public, had awakened a desire everywhere 
to hear from my own lips an account of Avhat I had 
suffered. 

In Cincinnati I was welcomed by Levi and Catharine 
Coffin, William Watson, Henry Boyd, Mr. Burnett, 
Samuel Lewis, S. P. Chase, and others, and I found an 
addition to the "Old Guard" — Laura S. Haviland. I 
had never met Mrs. Haviland before, though I had been 
familiar with her benevolent habits, her labors of love 
for the human race, her impartiality to all needy, with- 
out regfard to color, descent, or sex. Levi and Catharine 
Coffin had already distinguished themselves as real, as 
well as denominational "Friends," for they were born 
and brought up in that most excellent class of people 

60 



AMONG OLD FRIENDS. 61. 

called "Friend-Quakers." So was Laura Haviland; but 
she finally, in order to be more useful to the human 
race, united with the Wesleyan Methodists, laid all she 
was and all she had upon the altar for the elevation 
of mankind. She, with her husband, and her brother 
Harvey Smith, built houses, hired teachers, gave time, 
land and money to the poor and needy. 

Levi Coffin had become so noted as a friend of the 
slave, that whenever a fugitive could be traced into his 
vicinity, it was considered that his house was the re- 
treat necessary to be searched. At one time, while they 
lived in Indiana, two little girls were brought to them 
and were pursued. There was always a watch kept, a 
picket-guard, and no unfriendly eye could look through 
the line without an alann. The pickets gave the sig- 
nal, and the girls were hidden between a feather bed 
and a mattress. While the pursuers were watching the 
house, the little fugitives Avere so amused at their queer 
hiding-place, that they giggled and laughed so loud, it 
would have been quite dangerous had their master 
come near. Mrs. Coffin had to scold them severely, 
threatening them with a stick. The master with his 
assistant finally came and asked permission to look 
through the house, which they did, finding nothing of 
the girls. "Aunt Katie" was their pilot, directing them 
everywhere through the house. 



()2 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED. 

"Here, thee has not seen in this room. Thee wants 
to look sharp. Is there any other place thee wants to 
see?" 

After they had given up the hunt in despair, the 
master said: 

"Td like to know where all the niggers go to, when 
they get to old Coffin's. That old Quaker must have an 
underground railroad, for once a slave gets here, he 
is never seen again." 

Previous to 1849, Levi had been twice or three 
times burned out, his home set on fire by the slave- 
holder or his emissaries, and he had now settled perma- 
nently in Cincinnati. 

Salmon P. Chase had been elected United States 
Senator by the Ohio legislature of 1848-49. As I 
understood the history of political affairs, the old 
Whig and Democratic parties were evenly divided. 
Mr. Morse (I do not remember from what county he 
was sent) and Dr. Townshend of Loraine county, were 
elected as Free-Soilers, and knew they could hold both 
parties in their hands. But being Whigs originally, 
they were really more in sympathy with that party. 
Several vacancies in the Ohio judiciary were to be filled, 
and a United States senator elected. Townshend and 
Morse (being in harmony with the Whigs) said to the 
Democrats : 



AMONG OLD FRIENDS. 63 

"You give us Salmon P. Chase as senator in Con- 
gress, then we will give you the judges." 

It was done, and Salmon P. Chase became one of 
the leading spirits of the Nation. 

A revival was in progress in the Wesleyan church 
at Cincinnati, and I entered into the work, preached, 
visited, and put myself alongside the people, regardless 
of color, position or race, and thereby won confidence 
in many timid ones toward God and the religion of 
His Son Jesus Christ. After this I visited Oberlin 
and found many changes. Rev. Asa Malian, owing 
to his opposition to the use of works of heathen 
authors as text books, and perhaps his Arminian views, 
and other facts, had left the college presidency. At 
one time, his opposition to the use of heathen authors 
was so intense that many of the young men piled their 
books on the Tappan Hall square, and burned them. 

I next visited Cleveland, giving there my experi- 
ences among the slave-holders; then went on to Detroit. 
At this place I met many heroes in the anti-slavery 
struggle; among them the young hero George D. 
Baptist, an Africo- American, a very zealous defender of 
the faith. In one of my meetings, after I had spoken to 
a crowded house, he arose, and said: 

"Mr. Chairman, we want money now, and we want 
it for Brother Fair bank." Then beckoniuir to a 



64 HOW ''THE WAY" WAS PREPARED. 

family near him, he said: "Look here, Brother Fair- 
bank, do you know this crowd?" 

It was Coleman and his family, the man I had led 
through the woods and across the Ohio river in 1841. 
There were Coleman, his wife, the three children we 
had taken by night to the "promised land," and three 
more, born on free soil. I went home with them, 
and found them all well provided for, well schooled in 
letters and religion. Coleman was industrious and 
frugal. I stayed with them several days, and was much 
impressed by his economy and prudence. He often 
worked all day and half the night, and in the years of 
his freedom had accumulated a handsome little property. 
He owned the house in which he lived, had two to rent, 
and his home was the home of the minister, and his 
hand full of supply. 

Sandusky was my next stopping-place after leaving 
Detroit. I had been invited to speak at Chicago, but I 
declined. At Sandusky I made the acquaintance of 
Hon. Mr. Parish, who, being a prominent lawyer and 
having the courage to take up the cause of the slave, 
was watched, and every legal or illegal advantage 
.taken of him, involving him in suits in court which 
quite bankrupted him. 

While I was there, six fugitives in the city were 
hotly pursued. Father Jennings and I, with other 



AMONG OLD FRIENDS. 65 

help, induced the captain of a small steamer to take 
them on board and land them in Canada. We also 
sent a competent business man to look after their settle- 
ment. They had with them about twelve hundred 
dollars in gold. How they got it I did not inquire. 

Thirty minutes after they left, the hunters came on 
with their hired posse, savage enough for any barbarity, 
and asked : 

"Have you seen any niggers about here?" 

"Oh, there are plenty of people about here. What 
kind of people are these niggers you want to find? 
There are white niggers, black niggers, and yellow 
niggers, — all kinds, about here." 

"Well, there are six niggers of mine about town 
somewhere, and I reckoned they would come here to 
take a boat." 

" Oh, there were a man, his wife and four children, 
two boys and two girls, all quite light-colored, here 
about thirty minutes ago. I think they must be the 
persons you want ; and if you can hire a skifp or a fast 
boat, or if you can run on the water, you might over- 
take them. Do you see that boat yonder on the lake? 
There they go, and I think they are out of your reach, 
and will soon be safe in Canada." 

Father Jennings smiled triumphantly, and the dis- 



06 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED. 

appointed, enraged hunter, cursed and threatened until 
I said : 

"Do you see tliat stone palace up there?" pointing 
to a building in the distance. "That is the jail and 
you'd better be careful what you do and say." And 
he had the wisdom to take his leave. 

At Buffalo I became acquainted with Abner H. 
Francis, who was at some time near that date the 
Liberty party candidate for vice-president, James G. 
Birney being the candidate for president. 

I next visited my mother and family, whom my 
father had removed to Little Genesee, New York, and 
left in my brother's care before he took his departure 
to Kentucky. "For," said he, "I may never return." 
Which was the sad truth. He did not return. 
Two Anti-Slavery Parties. 

After a few days spent among the happy, hearty, 
liberty-loving Christians in grand old Allegany county, 
New York, I bent my way to Pike, Wyoming county, 
about fifty miles north, where I was born. From there 
I went on my way to Boston, stopping a week to attend 
the convention of two parties at Syracuse. There were 
in the North, two anti-slavery parties. The Liberty 
party was under the lead of Gerrit Smith ; the Garri- 
son school, or the American Anti-Slavery society, was 
in the main under the lead of William Lloyd Garrison, 



TWO ANTI-SLAVERY PARTIES. (St 

editor of the "Liberator" at Boston, though it was 
difficult to determine whether he or Wendell Phillips 
did' the most leading. They held the constitution of 
the United States to be pro-slavery, because it was so 
understood at its formation in 1777; that the Supreme 
Court of the United States so interpreted it ; and as the 
constitution itself provided that the interpretation of 
that court should fix its character, it was really a part 
of the instrument, and they refused to vote. 

The Liberty party, led by Gerrit Smith, held the 
constitution to be anti-slavery, because the word slave, 
or involuntary servant, or servitude, could not be found 
in it; that "where rights are infringed, where funda- 
mental principles are overthrown, where the general 
system of the laws is departed from, the legislative in- 
tention must be expressed with irresistible clearness, in 
order to induce a court of justice to suppose a design 
to effect such object." There being no such expression 
in the instrument, the words "All other persons," and 
"persons held to service, or labor," could not, under the 
rule of interpretation, be tortured into such a meaning ; 
no interpretation could make it pro-slavery ; that it was 
clearly and positively anti-slavery. 

Here were Mr. Garrison, Wendell Phillips, Stephen 
and Abby Kelly Foster, Charles Burleigh and Parker 
Pillsbury on one side, and Gerrit Smith, Samuel E. 



68 HOW ''THE WAV WAS PREPARED. 

Ward — a black man — an ex-slave, and editor of " Im- 
partial citizen " — P'red Douglass, Revs, Pryne, Asa 
Wing, and James C. Jackson on the other. 

This was the most exciting and instructive conven- 
tion of my life ; for while all acted in harmony against 
the pro-slavery idea, every argument and art of learn- 
ing was put in requisition by the strongest, most 
learned and thoroughly-read men and women in the 
land. And such earnestness! Often the audience 
would be held entranced and excited to the highest 
pitch, until one o'clock in the morning. Then after 
seven hours' partial rest, the same auditors would again 
fill the immense hall at eight next morning, to adjourn 
only one hour for dinner and one hour for supper. So 
through the first week of January, 1850. 

Mr, Garrison and Mr. Smith were both large- 
minded, cultured men. Mr. Garrison was about six 
feet in height, full and round in body, with a large, 
bold, honest face, and mouth and eyes finely expressive 
of earnest purpose and determination. His arguments 
were strong, to the point, and without any flowery 
rhetoric. Mr. Pillsbury was of medium height, of 
dark complexion, and spoke moderately and distinctly, 
cutting like an old kitchen knife, rough and deep. He 
was one of the most severe, bitter, sarcastic debaters I 
ever knew. Discussing some point, I said: 



TWO ANTI-SLAVERY PARTIES. 69 

"You don't believe in the Apostle Paul." 

Said lie: "Who is the Apostle Paul? Pm an 
Apostle/' 

Next day, Samuel R. Ward, the black orator, editor 
and preacher, debating some point, said: 

"The Apostle Paul thinks Christ to be the Son of 
God. The Apostle Parker thinks differently." 

Wendell Phillips was tall and symmetrical, with a 
beautiful face, and a silver-toned voice in which he 
uttered the most severe things, clothed in the most 
fascinating language, quoted the most learned authors, 
and applied his declarations, whether quoted or origi- 
nal, in a way that, while they charmed, they destroyed. 
However much people might differ with him, or even 
hate him for his sentiments, his style and strength of 
argument' held them for hours together, irresistibly 
spellbound. 

Gerrit Smith was unlike any of these I have men- 
tioned. He was of Mr. Garrison's height, slightly 
corpulent, and had a florid complexion. He wore the 
finest broadcloth trimmed with gold buttons. He 
dressed his neck in easy fashion, with a loose, low, 
wide collar, turned down over a narrow tie or ribbon. 
In his argument he dealt in law and gospel, ancient and 
modern lore, enforced with that ease of delivery, and 
in a smooth, sonorous voice which made him one of the 



70 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED. 

first orators of the day. To say that either Gerrit 
Smith or AVendell Phillips was best, would be to risk a 
good deal. They were not alike, and yet the world 
will wait awhile for two more such mighty men in 
speech. 

Samuel B. Ward was black, six and a half feet high, 
and always ready in speech; and Fred Douglass was a 
tornado in a forest. 

After the adjournment of this convention, which 
was held for the purpose of comparing views, and con- 
vincing one another, I went to Gerrit Smith's at 
Peterboro, New York, a few miles south of Utica, 
where I spent a few days with pleasure and profit. 
While there, some one asked him: 

"Mr. Smith, how do your finances come out this 
year?" • 

"Well," was the characteristic reply, "I have paid 
the Astor debt, two hundred thousand dollars, given 
away two liundred thousand, and am now two hundred 
thousand richer than last year." 

The Fugitive-Slave Law. 

About this time, Henry Clay presented a bill before 
the United States Senate providing for the return of 
fugitive slaves, which sifted and tried the mettle of the 
Nation and wrought up to intense heat the zeal of the 



THE FUGITIVE-SLAVE LAW. 71 

people on both sides. Daniel AVebster sided with 
the South and the Democracy of the North in its favor. 
On the 7th of March, 1850, in the United States Sen- 
ate, he made that memorable speech Avhich killed him 
politically, and finally physically. 

Gerrit Smith had made preparations to address the 
New York .Legislature at Albany, on the subject, and 
soon after the 7th of March he went before the two 
Houses in the Representative Chamber and delivered 
one of the most effective and powerful speeches ever 
heard in that city, against the measure advocated by 
Clay, and supported by Webster. I shall never forget 
how he looked when he said: 

"Gentlemen, will you heed this warning? You 
will, Avhen the iron pierces your heart." 

I went on to Boston, in March, and was the guest 
of the Haydens for the season, visiting, at times, differ- 
ent parts of the state, where I was invariably received 
with enthusiasm by all unbiased anti-slavery people, 
and by many Webster Whigs. 

The Legislature of Massachusetts soon. took up Mr. 
W^ebster's case, censuring him by a handsome majority. 
In that discussion I first saw Henry Wilson. He was 
against Mr. Webster, and poured out denunciation 
against the " Doughfaces with their ears and eyes 
filled with coUon.'''' 



rZ HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED. 

Then Moses Stuart wrote a pamphlet in justification 
of Mr. Webster — "Conscience and Constitution," which 
was read and commented on througliout the country. 
This called out from John G. Whittier the famous 
poem — 

"Conscience and Constitution." 

Scarce had the solemn Sabbath bell 
Ceased quivering in the steeple, — 

Scarce had the parson to his desk 
Walked stately through his people, 

When down the summer-shaded street 

A wasted female figure. 
With dusty brow and naked feet, 

Came rushing, wild and eager! 

She saw the white spire through the trees, 
She heard the sweet hymn swelling; — 

O, pitying Christ! a refuge give 
This poor one in Thy dwelling! 

Like a scared fawn before the hounds. 

Straight up the aisle she glided, 
When close behind her, whip in hand, 

A lank hired hunter strided. 

She raised a keen and bitter cry, 
To heaven and earth appealing: — 

Were manhood's generous pulses dry ? 
Had woman's heart no feeling ? 



"CONSCIENCE AND CONSTITUTION." 73 

A score of stout hands raised between 

The hunter and the flying:— 
Age clenched his stafP, and maiden eye 

Flashed tearful, yet defying. 

" Who dare profane this house and day ? " 

Cried out the angry pastor. 
" Why, bless your soul! the wench's a slave; 

And I'm her lord and master. 

"I've law and Gospel on my side; 
And who shall dare refuse me ? " 
Down came the parson, bowing low — 
" My good sir, pray excuse me ! 

" Of course I own your right divine 
To work, and sell, and whip her. 
Quick! deacon, drop the Polyglot 
Before the wench, and trip her." 

Plump dropped the holy tome; and o'er 

Its sacred pages stumbling. 
Bound hand and foot, a slave once more, 

The hapless wretch lay trembling. 

I saw the parson tie the knot. 

The while his flock addressing, 
The scriptural claims of slavery 

With text on text impressing, 

" Although," said he, " on Sabbath day 
All secular occupations 
Are deadly sins, we must fulfil 
Our moral obligations. 



74 HOW ''THE WAV WAS PREPARED. 

"And this commends itself as one, 
To every conscience tender; 
As Paul sent back Onesimus, 

My Christian friends, we send her." 

Shriek rose on shriek; — the Sabbath air 
Her wild cries tore asunder: — 

I listened with hushed breath to hear 
God answer with his thunder. 

All still — the very altar cloths 

Had smothered down her shrieking. 

As pale she turned from face to face. 
For human pity seeking. 

"Is this the end— is this," I cried, 
"The end of prayer and preaching? 
Then down with pulpit; down with priest; 
And give us nature's teaching! 

"Foul shame and scorn be on you all 
Who turn the good to evil, 
And steal the Bible from the Lord, 
And give it to the Devil!" 

Just then I felt the deacon's hand 
In wrath my coat-tail seize on ; 

I heard the priest cry "Infidel!" — 
The lawyer mutter "Treason!" 

And there upon the window-sill. 

O'er which the white blooms drifted, 

The pages of a good old book 
The winds of summer lifted. 



''CONSCIENCE AND CONSTITUTION." 75 

And there upon the cherry bough 

Above the casement swinging, 
With golden bosom to the sun 

The oriole was singing. 

As bird and flower made plain of old 

The lesson of the teacher, 
So now I heard God's written word 

Interpreted by nature. 

I woke; and lo, the fitting cause 
Of all my dreams' vagaries: — 
Two bulky pamphlets: Webster's text. 
And Stuart's Commentaries. 

This poem was hawked about everywhere by all 
the newsboys, hung in all the news windows, distributed 
and read at all the Anti-Slavery gatherings. In June 
Webster appeared in the front porch of the Eevere 
House in Boston, and attempted in a speech to teach 
New England her constitutional duties, how to conquer 
her prejudices, — looking through the moral and politi- 
cal confusion of the present to a calm political future 
in which law and order should reign through the sur- 
render of the distinctly avow^ed purpose to "protect 
life, liberty and property." And here, on a drizzling 
June day, he repeated the lesson delivered on the Ttli 
of March in the United States Senate Chamber. — "You 
must conquer your prejudices.' 



I 



76 HOW ''THE WAV WAS PREPARED. 

It was soon after this that Mr. Seward offered that 
amendment to the Fugitive-Slave Law, supported by 
Hale, Chase, Wade, and Tom Benton, and in the House 
by Mann, Giddings, Thad. Stevens and others; and Pratt 
of Maryland made his memorable reply mentioned in 
a former chapter. Horace Mann in the House said: 

" Given, the height at which the whip shall fall 
from the driver's hand, or the shackle from the slave." 

These became the watchwords on every loyal 
tongue, the alarm rung on the ear of every public 
gathering. 

"Wendell Phillips, in the convention at Worcester, 
while discussing the position of Moses Stuart, President 
at Andover, and a leader of the church, said: 

"What is the Church? It is a weather-cock. What 
is the pulpit? It is what the pews make it." 

John Milton Earle, State Senator from the Wor- 
cester district, and a Quaker, said: 

"When it comes to that point — when we are 
required, not to merely stand and see humanity out- 
raged, but to assist in the outrage, we must resist." 

Stephen Foster asked: "But, Milton, thee won't 
fight, will thee?" 

"Yes, fight! fight! We must fight, for resistance 
to tyrants is obedience to God. " 



CHAPTER XI. 

The Fugitive-Slave Law Passed. 

nPHAT infamous act known as the Fugitive-Slave 
■•■ Law had passed the United States Senate; and 
coming before the House was forced to its third read- 
ing, and without any deliberation, after taking its last 
form, by an evident pre-arrangement with the Speaker, 
Howell Cobb, was hurried through upon the "previous 
question," moved by Hon. M. Thompson, a Democrat 
from Erie, Pennsylvania, September 12th. It was signed 
on the 18th by President Fillmore, and became a law 
of the land. I quote from Kinley's "American Con- 
flict" : "When the bill was reached in the Lower House, 
Judge Thompson, a Democrat from Erie, Pennsylvania, 
obtained the floor — doubtless by pre-arrangement with 
the Speaker, Howell Cobb, and spoke in favor of the 
measure as just and necessary, closing by a demand for 
the 'previous question'" ; and the bill finally passed 
with every member from the slave states, and twenty- 
eight Democrats and three Whigs from the free states 
in its favor. The three Whigs from the free states Avere 
Samuel A. Elliott of Massachusetts, John L. Taylor of 



77 



78 HOW ''THE WAY'' WAS PREPARED. 

Ohio, aud Edward McGaughey of Indiana. In the 
Senate the vote stood twenty-seven for, and twelve 
against it, with twenty- one absentees. The most infa- 
mous feature of this law was the law; and next to it, 
was the provision that whether he or she be free born, 
set free by deed, — white or black — never more exalted 
and honorable, if any one swears to him or her as held 
to service or labor, and having escaped, there was no 
redress, even by habeas corpus, in him or herself. 

The Fugitive-Slave Law of 1850 stood upon the 
books of the Nation as the law of the land until 1864. 
A bill for its repeal had passed the Senate, but failed 
in the House, as I understand it, before the Congress 
of 1863-64— during 1863; James M. Ashley of Toledo, 
Ohio, voting in the affirmative, with the minority. 
Then seeing the necessity of a reconsideration — know- 
ing that, by a rule in the House, he who moves a recon- 
sideration must have voted with the majority, obtained 
leave, and changed his vote to the negative — with the 
majority. Then, in the spring of 1864, moved to 
reconsider, and secured a majority in favor of repeal; 
and thus, by one of the most adroit strokes — a coup de 
maiire of statesmanship, wiped out the foulest blot upon 
the Nation's escutcheon. I had foujjht this throusfh 
the summer of 1850, and continued to resist it after its 
enactment as far as possible with any show of safety. 



MARRIAGE OF WILLIAM AXD ELLEN CRAFT. <1> 

William and Ellen Craft had taken refugre in 
Boston with Mr. and Mrs. Hayden. Mr. Craft was of 
pure blood; Mrs. Craft Avas just a dark-skinned white 
woman, though of African extraction. Legal advice 
induced the conclusion that protection on British soil 
was more secure than in America. A meeting of tried 
friends had been called — Wendell Phillips, Charles 
Sumner, Ralph Waldo Emerson, Henry Wilson, 
William Lloyd Garrison and Theodore Parker were 
there. 

Lewis Hayden, unconscious of who were present, 
having in his mind only the rescue of his friends, rose 
and began to speak with his whole soul, and was just 
pouring out one of his most fervid strains of native 
eloquence, when, turning toward another portion of his 
audience, he saw those notable, noble men, embodying 
the lore and wisdom of the Bay State, and sank into his 
seat abashed and silent. Then Wendell Phillips, fol- 
lowed in turn by all the other great lights of the time, 
made the occasion one of the most extraordinary in my 
memory. A large sum of money was raised, and it was 
then decided that at the house of Lewis Hayden, next 
morning. Rev. Theodore Parker would solemnize the 
marriage of William and Ellen Craft. 

It was done ; and Mr. Parker then taking from his 
pocket a Bible, and handing it to Mr. Craft, said: "Will- 



80 HOW ''THE WAY" WAS PREPARED. 

iam, take that, and make it the man of your counsel." 
Then, drawing a poniard of fearful length and propor- 
tions, and holding it by the shining blade, extending 
to him the hilt, said: "Take this, and defend your 
wife." 

The nuptials completed, William and Ellen took 
train for Halifax, whence they sailed for England, and 
there remained until the death of slavery in America. 
Mr. Craft enjoyed the confidence of the British Govern- 
ment and her patronage during a number of years, 
filling important missions to states of Africa; returning 
to the United States and his old home in Georgia after 
the settlement of peace, and the question which kept so 
many pale during their lives. Since his return he has 
built dwelling-houses on his own land for the free 
people of his race, and school-houses for the education 
of their children. 

William L. Chaplin, a lawyer, and the editor of a 
paper, had, while at Washington, become interested in 
two slaves, the body-servants of Toombs and Stephens 
of Georgia, and in obedience to his sympathies gave 
them the hand of charity in violation of law, was 
apprehended and thrown into jail in Washington, and 
his bail fixed at six thousand dollars. Remembering 
them that are in bonds as bound with them, and how 
much I wanted help under the same circumstances, I 



FILLMORE AND HIS CABINET. 81 

volunteered my services and helped to raise liis l)ail, 
which was forfeited, and he released. I returned to 
Bolivar, Allegany county, New York, in the spring of 
1851; at that place Rev. Gilbert De LaMatyr Avas 
pastor of the M. E. Church. I preached several times 
in his pulpit, and with his support was successful in 
securing the M. E. Church for my warfare against the 
Fugitive-Slave Law. We had secured the church from 
the proper authorities for a week, — I mean six nights 
and days. On the fourth night I was dealing with this 
infamous law, without bringing Mr. Fillmore or his 
Cabinet forward as responsible, simply because I knew 
very well that that would stir up opposition, when an 
official of the church, now living at Bolivar, rose and 
asked: 

"What do you say of Fillmore and his cabinet?" 

"I have not come here to talk about Fillmore and 
his Cabinet, or any other responsible party, but about 
the diabolical character and dangerous disposition of 
the law in question." 

"But we want to hear about it." 

"Well, I am not inclined to talk about it." 

'But you must." 

"But I won't." 

"This is our house, and we have some right here to 
say Avhat you shall talk about." 



82 HOW ''THE W^AY'' WAS PREPARED. 

"This is not your liouse. It is my house until 
Saturday night at ten o'clock, and I'll not be fright- 
ened to talk." 

Finally, upon the suggestion of Mr. De LaMatyr, 
I said: "Well, if you are anxious to hear my sentiments 
on President Fillmore and his Cabinet, they are a 
brotherhood of thieves." And the doctor hunched me. 
"Give it to them! I'll stand by you." 
"This Church endorses Fillmore and his cabinet." 
"Well, this Church is a den of thieves." 
Then the doctor again — "Give it to them!" 
"I am an officer of this Church, and I endorse Fill- 
more and his Cabinet.' 

" Well, then, you are one of the thieves. How do 
you like that?" 

And the doctor again — "Stand up to them!" 
Then the mob — "eggs! — eggs! — eggs!" swelled the 
chorus, when about a dozen gentlewomen and three or 
four gentlemen sprang from their seats and surrounded 
the altar; and two or three gentlewomen and girls who 
could not get out from their pews soon enough, being 
obstructed by roughs on the other side, sprang right 
over the tops of the seats in front of them, and even 
over the heads of their occupants, like so many cha- 
mois, shouting ''Come down here! Come doivn here/"" 
And the leading spirit among the heroines shouted, 



''LIBERTY PARTY" CONVENTION. 83 

" Now throw your eggs if you dare!" But I finished 
up my week's work with but little more molestation. 

Such was the public sentiment then; and such the 
warfare we had to sustain against the foes of impartial 
justice. But, in 1856, public sentiment had changed, 
and I received from these parties assurance of their 
approval of my course. 

In June following, we held a convention at Friend- 
ship for the expression of our contempt for the Fugi- 
tive-Slave Law, and for the election of delegates to the 

"Liberty Party" Convention at Buffalo 

which occurred in September, 1851. At this convention 
were C. C. Foot of Michigan, J. W. Logan of Syracuse, 
New York, William L. Chaplin, and other notables. 
At the Buffalo convention were many distinguished 
men and women from different states. As important a 
delegation as represented a constituency was that from 
Illinois, which furnished some able debaters and com- 
mittee men. Mr. Z. Eastman and Rev. Mr. Rumley 
were the leading geniuses of the body. 

Gerrit Smith was nominated for president, and 
Charles Durkee of Iowa, for vice-president. This 
was in 1851, — a year in advance. But, before election 
day in November, 1852, I was booked for fifteen years 
more in Kentucky, and political changes in regard to 



84 HOW ''THE WAY'' WAS PREPARED. 

parties had taken place to justify the abandonment of 
the "Liberty Party" ticket. 

Sojourner Truth. 

I must not forget Sojourner. I met her first at 
Worcester, Massachusetts, about August or September, 
1850, at a Woman's Bights convention at which Lucre^ 
tia Mott presided. Stephen S. Foster had expressed 
some sentiments that were rather unorthodox. Sojourner 
was seated on the steps to the desk. A young grad- 
uate from the Andover Theological school arose and 
said : 

"Madam chairman, I should not be astonished if 
God should open the earth and swallow us all up." 

Sojourner rose, — tall, gaunt, with her white kerchief 
tied about her head — "Chile, don't be skeered. I 
queshen if de Lord ever hearn tell on ye." 



CHAPTER XII. 

Second Imprisonment. 

A FTER my liberation in 1849, the great desire of 
-^^ our family was the rescue of our father's body, 
which lay among strangers, far from any one who cared 
for him, or revered and loved his memory. At the 
time of my release the removal of the body was not 
admissible for hygienic reasons; but now it could be 
safely done, and I went South for that purpose. On 
arriving in Cincinnati, I found the weather too warm 
for such an undertaking, and was forced to wait awhile. 
Indiana was at white heat over a proposed amend- 
ment to her constitution, prohibiting persons of African 
descent from settling in the state. I entered the field 
"with several others against it, took the river tier of 
counties, was watched by Kentucky, and often met her 
citizens in debate. The weather continued warm. The 
Fugitive-Slave law was in force, but I was appealed to 
to rescue Tamar, a young mulatto woman doomed to be 
sold on the block. I consented, and crossed the river 
by night, at Louisville, in a leaky, sinking old skiff. 
While Tamar, with a cup taken for the purpose, kept the 

85 



-86 HOW ''THE WAV WAS PREPARED. 

water "below shoe-mouth, I, with a piece of board four 
feet long and four inches wide, propelled the boat to 
the Indiana shore. At four o'clock next morning, 
November 3, 1851, we were speeding on our way 
toward Salem, Indiana. About thirty miles out my 
buggy was disabled on the rough roads, which led to 
my detention. After taking her to a place of safety, 
by rail and on foot, I returned to Jeffersonville, Indiana. 
Sunday, the 9th of November, I was planning that 
the next day I would go to Lexington, take up my 
father's body, and hasten home with it. But, as 
was said of Caesar, ^^ while meditating these things''^ 
[^'■mors prevenit :''"' idem in me), I was attacked and 
kidnaped into Kentucky by A. L. Shotwell, Marshals 
Ronald and Hamlet of that state, despite my protest, 
and given up by the sheriff, contrary to law, and lodged 
in jail, charged with the highest crime known to the 
public sentiment of Kentucky. Every intrigue and 
baseness was put in requisition to convict me. My 
name was not yet known. My safety greatly — almost 
entirely — depended upon that; for there was no fact 
that could be produced which could be used as legal 
evidence against me. But, my name known as an Aboli- 
tionist, and once convicted of violation of the slave code, 
was sufficient to convict me with no other evidence of 
fact. That was soon known. My friends at Cincinnati 



SECOND IMPRISONMENT. 87 

took the alarm ; and Laura S. Haviland, then of Adrian, 
Michigan, came to my relief against the wishes and 
protestations of nearly all the others. Dr. Brisbane, 
Levi Coffin and S. P. Chase protested strongly that 
she Avould forfeit her life — that it was enough that I 
should fall. But she was braver than them all ; came 
— saw — conquered; supplied me with bedding, money 
and courage; made some friends and returned in 
safety. She, with Levi Coffin of Cincinnati and others 
in Adrian and Detroit, and Mandana Tileston of 
Williamsburg, Massachusetts, stood by me unto the 
last hour, supplying, encouraging, pointing to a 
brighter future, until the signal-gun at Sumter broke 
the spell. Miss Tileston had left her New England 
home and engaged as a teacher at Oxford, Ohio, where 
she remained to watch across the border until day 
dawned upon me. 

I had been kidnaped from Indiana. Tlie high 
sheriff of Clark county had given me into the hands of 
irresponsible citizens of Kentucky, in violation of the 
fundamental Irav of the land. Had I been hekl in 
Indiana, it was well known that no cause could be found 
for rendering me up to Kentucky. For, 1. If it had 
been shown that I had aided Tamar in Indiana, onlij 
the United States court for the District of Indiana 
could adjudicate my case and punish me under the 



88 HOW ''THE WAY" WAS PREPARED. 

Fugitive-Slave law of 1850. That would fine me one 
thousand dollars and imprison me three or six months 
(I have forgotten which). 2. But they knew that they 
could not do even that; for no one knew ivho the girl 
was. Even in the court at Louisville no one could 
swear who she was. If, therefore, I had been tried by 
a court of Indiana, I should have been discharged, and 
neither convicted under the Fugitive-Slave law, nor 
sent back. 

The Inmates. 

In order to prepare the reader to follow me, I think 
best to show the ground over which we are to pass and 
the obstacles and helps on the way. There were in 
jail Mr. Adams, from New Orleans, charged with tam- 
pering with the United States mail; Mr. Forsyth, 
who seemed at the time a fast friend to Adams. I was 
inclined to be cautious of both. Forsyth was a rascal, 
but smart, — of fine appearance, dress and address, — 
and easily ingratiated himself into favor with the public ; 
and I soon came to the conclusion to avoid exposing 
any secrets, however much I might need advice, unless 
I could see beyond any doubt that it would enhance 
his hififhest interest to advance mine. For I felt sure 
he would play into any hands that would help him. 
There was, also, a young man by the name of William 



''AXES TO GRIND." 89 

Baker, to all intents and purposes white, though of 
African extraction, and a fugitive slave who had been 
in Ohio and Indiana. He knew freedom, and how to use 
it; but having been a hand on a boat, and, as Mose? 
did in his day, seeing a man of the privileged clasL 
smiting one of liis own blood, he — did not quite slay 
him, but hurt him. Another w^as John Marshall, — a 
nice-looking, smart-appearing mulatto; but he was the 
quintessence of knavery. 

Now, I was at a loss what to do. I wanted help. 
I wrote a letter to Frederic Douglass, which, in a nut- 
shell, said: "I'm in jail at Louisville, Kentucky, 
charged with again aiding my felloAvmen, contrary to 
.law; and though no testimony appeared against me in 
the police court, and though kidnaped into Kentucky 
contrary to law, which will cast a fire-brand into this 
owl's nest of despotism that must by and by make the 
ears of this Nation tingle, I am in danger." 

Forsyth, Adams, Baker, Marshall and I had '"axes 
to grind." Mine was dullest of all. Adams wanted 
some one outside to do something for him. Forsjiih 
could do it if he would ; and there was every reason to 
believe he would; for he not only felt no kindness for 
Kentucky, but real enmity; and he and Adams had been 
friends. Forsyth's wife was there, — smart, pretty, and 
of fascinating address; and that worked in his favor. 



90 HOW ''THE WAV WAS PREPARED. 

I liad no objection to putting obstacles in Sliotwell's 
way in liis effort to capture Tamar. If I could get him 
to send Forsyth on a wild-goose chase after her, with 
no probability of finding her, I would succeed in crip- 
pling my enemy, at any rate. 

I gradually became familiar with Forsyth. I in- 
vited him to my cell, and soon broke to him the idea 
that I might enhance his interest, and mine, in one 
enterprise; — that he might induce Shotwell, the claim- 
ant of the escaped girl, to enter bail for him, and send 
him in pursuit. He knew enough for the rest of it. 
So I said to him, "Go to Indianapolis.'' I knew 
from his make that he would not try to capture 
Tamar; that he would not if he could; and he could 
not if he would, I also knew that he would do me 
no harm. 

So Shotwell entered bail for one thousand dollars, 
put into his hands two hundred dollars for expenses and 
salary, and started him off. Forsyth went to Indian- 
apolis, told some of the people his mission, pretending 
to be so drunk that his judgment was at fault, was 
arrested, put in jail by some of Shotwell' s friends 
there who had been instructed to watch him, sued 
out a writ of habeas corpus, and was discharged. 
That was the last of Forsyth. His axe was ground, 
— he had got out of Kentucky, and what Shotwell did 



"HALLELUJAH! I'M VICTORIOUS!" t)l 

about the one thousand dollar bail I never knew. But 
Forsyth had the two hundred dollars. 

In a short time Colonel Buckner, the jailor, came 
to me and said: 

" Bank, your friend Forsyth has played a rascally 
game on Mr. Shotwell. He went to Indianapolis, told 
what he was after, gave them a chance to slip her aAvay, 
and played the devil generally; and Mr, Shotwell has 
lost the girl, the two hundred dollars, and will have to 
settle for his bail.'" 

I was lying on my back in my cell, and springing 
up, clapped my hands and shouted, " Hallelujah! I'm 
victorious!" That was just what they wanted to find ; 
that was their thermometer by which they found my 
moral temperature; and they were satisfied that my 
choice was on the side of the fugitive, and that I had 
aided Tamar in her escape. 

Next day there came out in one of the Louisville 
papers the following: "Rev, Calvin Fairbank was 
told, the other day, that Tamar, the runaway slave, had 
gone beyond recovery; that Forsyth had purposely 
let her slip out of the way, and there was no hope of 
getting her back, when he sprang upon his feet shout- 
ing 'Hallelujah! I feel like shouting victory!'''''' 

Hon. James Speed called on me and spent the 
greater part of a day, and upon discussing the situation 



1»2 HOW ''THE WAY'' WAS PREPARED. 

— my views of the slavery question — the Constitution 
of the United States — the legality of slavery in any 
sense, — he held precisely with me. Said he: 

" I have seen the United States Constitution to be 
anti-slavery ever since I became a student of common 
law; that it is in contravention of the law of the civil- 
ized world, to create or sustain slavery under such an 
instrument. And more, as you say, Mr. Fairbank: 
there is not a state in the Union in which slavery is 
established by positive law, and that Mr. Pratt well 
knew." 

This kindly visit, and such expression from a man 
standing as high in community as did Mr. Speed, 
greatly encouraged me, not only in my constitutional 
doctrine, but in my sense of a Higher Law than any 
Constitution. 



CHAPTER XIII. 

Laura S. Haviland. 

'T^HIS very estimable woman who had for many years 
^ given her time and means for the promotion of 
the highest interests and the protection of the defense- 
less of all classes, and especially the African people in 
America, still labored for my rescue. It was my wish 
that some man of ability — that Mr. Chase should 
defend me; and to feel secure, I should have bail, in 
order myself to make j)reparations for trial. My plan 
was to get bail, see the witnesses from Indiana and 
buy them off, then go into trial and beat Kentucky. 
Mrs. Haviland in the sixth chapter of her Woman's 
Life Work, gives an account of her efforts for me. 

"Bail or Break Jail." 

I saw no way out of my dilemma but to break jail 
or get bail. To go out by bail would cost five thousand 
dollars. To break jail would cost just fitting keys, 
getting them into the jail, together with saws, etc., for 
cutting the bars out of the "window after getting out of 
my cell. Baker and Marshall were to be let out of 

!)3 



94 HOW ''THE WAY" WAS PREPARED 

jail. I became responsible for Baker's lawyer's fee. 
Two plans lay before them. First, to prepare keys 
and saw, and get them into the jail. To this end, I, 
with Mike Cronan, a friendly prisoner, who also had 
an axe to grind, made a hardwood key that would fit, 
took an impression of the face of the lock, key-hole 
and all, on a piece of wet sole-leather. Second, Baker 
and Marshall were to go to work at once to collect 
money for my bail, so that if the plan for jail-breaking 
should fail, bail could be given. 

They both went to work, Marshall collecting pledges 
for money, and Baker making preparations for letting 
me out, and at the same time collecting money. I 
knew Marshall was very smart, but dared not trust him 
with the money; and I had charged Baker to hold the 
papers himself and collect and hold all the money. 
The keys were all fitted and sent in by the brother of 
another prisoner in jail who had more of an axe to 
grind than any of us. He had killed Drihaus and 
was to be hanged, but had got a rehearing and a 
change of venue to Shelby county. His wife and 
brother visited him often ; and in one visit, the turnkey 
being absent, passed keys, saws, etc., to the doomed 
prisoner, who passed them to me with a letter saying: 

"I will come next Saturday night; throw over into 
the jail-yard beef with strychnine for the dogs, and 



MARSHALL PLAYS THE KNAVE. 95 

stand oil the wall in the tower; and when you get out 
into the yard, I'll let down a rope for you." 

So he did. The dogs all died but one, — a big bull- 
dog; and he, in spite of strychnine, stood the storm. 
Baker stood on the wall, until he saw that the plan was 
discovered, and that was in this way: Colonel Buckner, 
the jailor, had gone out at about eight p. m., shut our 
door (I was then in the large room with Howard, Jones, 
H. Olover, and Mike Cronan), and shoved the bolt 
outside the loop. So it was open. About eleven p. m., 
just as we were contemplating our escape — so lucky — 
so easy, the turnkey brought in a diamken man, and 
discovered the door open, old Bull vomiting up his 
dose, the other dogs lying dead in the yard. So ended 
that plan. 

Marshall Plays the Knave and Skips to Liberia. 

Marshall surreptitiously got hold of my letters of 
instruction, outwitted the honest Baker, went to my 
mother in Bolivar, New York, got all my portraits and 
steel-plate engraving, which cost me fifty dollars, then 
went into Massachusetts, Rhode Island and other New 
England States and collected an immense amount of 
money. He married the daughter of Dr. Bunninghani, 
traveled with her, representing her as an escaped slave 
and his own sister, until she peremptorily refused to 



96 HOW ''THE WAY'' WAS PREPARED. 

be used in such a way — to gather money by fraud; 
then to avoid trouble arising from his fraud, he fled 
to Liberia, leaving his wife behind. She had already 
left him. He subsequently wrote Mr. Hay den and 
others asking leave to return. But his request was 
denied. Lewis Hayden had written to Cincinnati, 
found out the truth, and threatened Marshall with 
prosecution. 

So now nothing remained for me but to try post- 
ponement in order, if possible, to secure bail ; — but 
I was obliged to write to my friends: "Postponement 
of my trial impossible." Lovell H. Rousseau, my 
attorney, wrote " There is no doubt of postponement." 
And they believed him, and I was slaughtered. 



CHAPTER XIV. 

Trial and Conviction. 

T WAS in irons; had been put in irons after the dogs 
^ were found dead. That night turnkey Casenbine 
came in in a rage, tore about, lifted up one end of our 
bed, then the otlier, and went out. All this time the 
key and saws were right under the middle of the bed; 
and as soon as he had shut the door behind him, they 
went down the sewer, and were never heard from, that 
I know of. But I was kept in irons until my trial in 
February — the 18th, J. think. Mr. Rousseau made an 
affidavit setting forth reasons why I should be allowed 
a postponement. First, that at present my friends dare 
not come to my defense on account of the excitement. 
Second, that the excitement was so high a jury could 
hardly consider the case unbiased. Third, there were 
important witnesses who could not now be obtained. 
But the commonwealth attorney, Nathaniel Wolfe, re- 
sisted it; our motion was overruled, and I forced into 
trial with no defense, — no argument except my own. 

The jury was sifted as closely as could be. I per- 
emptorily rejected twenty-four — at any rate, all the law 

7 97 



98 HOW ''THE WAV WAS PREPARED. 

allowed, and seventy-two for cause. In selecting a 
jury, two teachers, one of music and the other of 
letters, were called upon the stand, and, giving satisfac- 
tion of their ability to try the case, were accepted by 
the state. Then to my questions "Are you teachers? 
AVhat do you teach?" their answers were satisfactory, 
and I accepted them. One man, a slave-trader, I re- 
jected upon that ground. One man whom I had seen 
before had lived at Frankfort. I mistook him for a 
former friend, and accepted him. I found afterward 
that he voted to send me np for twenty years; but 
the two teachers voted to send me for two years. 
Finally they agreed to add together all the time ex- 
pressed in all the votes, divide the product by twelve, 
and make that their verdict. They did so, and found 
their verdict fifteen years. 

The Testimony. 

Mr. Shoiwell, the owner, testified to owning a 
mulatto girl of about twenty-two years: — that he had 
hired her to Judge Purtle ; that she was about five feet 
.in height; that she had a dove-colored shawl. 

Judge Purtle said: "The girl in question was in 
my employ; answers Mr. ShotwelPs description; was 
missed about nine P. m., Sunday, November 2d. I had 
bought her a piece of striped linsey black and red. 



THE TESTIMONY. 99 

I have not seen her or the cloth since seven p. m., Sun- 
day, November 2d." 

Gibson: "I saw Mr. Fairbank driving a horse and 
buggy, with a bright mulatto girl of about twenty 
years old in the buggy, on the morning of November 
3d. He was driving quite fast. His buggy was dis- 
abled, and he left it for me to repair, while he put the 
girl aboard the cars. The girl wore a dove-colored 
shawl and had a white handkerchief marked Mary 
Bullock." 

Senix: "I saw Mr. Fairbank put the girl described, 
on the cars. She had a bundle wrapped in paper. I 
tore a hole in the paper with my finger and saw striped 
linsey in it." 

Now here was some fun as I cross-questioned him. 
Though the linsey in question went ofif in a box, and 
the witness was not within eight feet of anything the 
girl had, he said, in answer to my question, "What is 
linsey?" 

"Why, striped cloth." 

"What kind of cloth? — any kind, I suppose." 
"Yes." 

Turning to Judge Purtle I asked, "Judge, what is 
linsey?" 

" Cotton and wool mixed." 



100 HOW ''THE WAV WAS PREPARED. 

"Then, your Honor, you see that this man is not 
only a knave, but a fool." 

Again I asked the witness, " What is linsey?"" 

"Why, cotton and wool." 

"Who told you that?" 

"Why a he Judge Purtle." 

This raised a laugh. 

"Well, what kind of linsey was it?" 

"Striped linsey." (Judge Purtle put into his 
mouth ''Checked linsey.^'') 

I objected to the whole of that testimony; but it 
went down, just the same. 

Then I called Shotwell and Purtle and asked, 
"How many girls in this city answer the description 
you give of the girl Tamar and wear the described 
clothing, etc?" 

"Five hundred," was the answer. 

Policeman Bust: "I was in the negro church, 
where Bird Parker preaches, at eight o'clock Sunday, 
November 2d, and saw Mr, Fairbank there: saw him 
shake hands with Wash Spradley. The cigar shop 
(calling it by name) was burned that night." 

Then sending for the clerk of the fire department, 
I proved that the fire occurred on the 19th of October, 
two weeks before that. 



THE TESTIMONY. 101 

We rested the case as to the testimony. After Mr. 
AVolfe's argument I said: 

" May it please the Court, Gentlemen of the jury :— 
You are sitting upon the destiny, and trying the 
validity of inalienable right. And first, your Honor, I 
plead jurisdiction of this Court. This Court — the 
State of Kentucky, has no jurisdiction in the case. It 
belongs to the United States Court for the District of 
Indiana. Second, I ask the Court to charge the jury 
that, as no testimony has been ofiPered to show that the 
girl in question was the Tamar in question, no cause of 
action attaches. Then, gentlemen, I have proven that 
there are five hundred girls in the city of that descrip- 
tion. So that I have five hundred chances to one, for 
an acquittal." 

A letter which I had written and handed the jailor 
was brought into court, which ran thus: 

" I am charged with aiding a slave girl to escape. 
I know nothing of her. But, the public being preju- 
diced, I am in danger." 

Judge Bullock would not admit it as evidence, 
until its authorship could be proven. I acknowledged 
its authorship. But that was not satisfactory. Some 
one had to swear to my manuscript, which Mr. Casen- 
bine did without ever having seen me write, and the 
letter was admitted as evidence. And I Avas glad of it, 



102 HOW ''THE WAY" WAS PREPARED. 

because it was clearly in my favor, — a flat denial of any 
knowledge of the person in question. Then I showed 
the discrepancy between Rust's testimony and that of 
the clerk of the fire department, two weeks. But the 
case was prejudged and I was convicted. 

I was left in jail until Saturday, March 7th, when, 
with sixteen others, I think, I was taken out for sen- 
tence. The question being asked: 

"Have any of you any reason to give why the 
sentence of the law should not be passed upon you?" 
I rose, and said, among other things: 

"I object to the sentence of the law because the 
case does not come within the jurisdiction of this Court. 
This case is one coming clearly under the Fugitive- 
Slave Law of Eighteen Hundred and Fifty; and 
should be tried in the District Court of the United 
States for the District of Indiana." 

But my plea amounted to just so much wind; and I 
was ordered to stand up, and was sentenced to be con- 
fined in the Jail and Penitentiary House of the 
State for the term of fifteen years at hard labor! 

When writing of a letter I had heedlessly kept on 
my person — not in my manuscript — not over my own 
name, but "Frater," I said, "mark this." Judge 
Buckner in January, 1845, allowed that letter to go 
before tlie jury as evidence against Miss Webster, be- 



LEAVE THE JAIL IN IRONS. IQ'S 

cause she was in my company, and no other evidence 
could be found. At Louisville, in the February term, 
1852, as I have already said. Judge Bullock refused a 
letter with my own name, taken by the jailor from my 
own hand : and still, after I had said to the Court " It 
is my voluntary letter," he would not allow it to go to 
the jury, as e\adence, imtil some one who had seen me 
write could swear to my manuscript. That is the dif- 
ference in courts. Law is an elastic string. 

My bail was five thousand dollars, and my friends 
in Cincinnati were anxious ; but no one dared venture 
into the city, or the state either, to offer bail or defend 
me before the court. So my cause fell by default — 
without even an ordinary effort of an advocate, though 
General Lovell H. Rousseau stood nominally as my 
attorney. 

On the 9th of March, 1852, I left the jail in irons 
for Frankfort. On the 8th I was told that it was the 
purpose to iron me to a negro. But finding that that 
would enhance my pride the plan was abandoned and I 
was ironed by myself, wearing my poorest clothes, 
having boxed my best and sent them home. 



CHAPTER XV. 
My Reception — Craig's Reign. 

CAPTAIN CEAIG was still in charge, and having 
been educated under pro-slavery influences, and 
being a slave-holder himself, he was constitutionally 
unfit to do me justice. He was purposely absent, 
and I was locked into my cell until his return, on the 
11th, when I was summoned to the chapel before the 
governor and a large audience of invited guests — 
cursed, misrepresented, traduced, ^ — to all of which I 
replied without modification. This order was then 
given : 

"Mr. Davis, take Fairbank to the hackling house 
and kill him. Don't let him speak to any one, or any 
one to him. If his own family, — if his mother comes 
to see him, he is not to speak to her, or notice her." 

To this I respectfully replied: "Captain Craig, with 
due regard for your authority and due regard for my 
manhood, I beg to say if my mother comes to me I 
shall speak to her and submit to consequences." 

This, instead of exciting wrath, excited admiration 
for my pluck. That was sanctified pluck, and this same 



104 



MY RECEPTION— CRAIG'S REIGX. 105 

kind of pluck protected me through a great many 
dangerous places during those seventeen years of mar- 
tyrdom, to April 15th, 1864, when I was pardoned 
by Lieutenant-Governor E. T. Jacob. 

Prison Government and Prison Life. 

During my acquaintance with the Kentucky state 
prison, from February 18th, 1845, to August 23d, 
1849, and from March 9th, 1852, to April 15th, 1864, 
and the interim from August 23d, 1849, to March 9th, 
1852, it passed under the rule or administration of four 
wardens: Captain Newton Craig assumed the warden- 
ship March 1st, 1844, and again in 1848, holding until 
1854 as a partner with the state, furnishing one-third 
the expenses, and sharing one-third the net results. 
Zebulon Ward, from March 2d, 1854 to 1858 ; at first 
as one-third partner, but at the Legislature of 1854-5 
obtained it as lessee, at six thousand dollars per annum. 
Jeremiah W. South, with Bo wen as partner, fi'om 1858 
to 1863, as lessee at twelve thousand dollars. Harry I. 
Todd, from March, 1863, at conditions unknown, simply 
for reasons I will try to illustrate. 

South fell into misfortune in taking the prison at 
such a price, just on the eve of war. Hemp was the 
staple. The war cut off the market. South was loser. 
The prison was impoverished — came to rags and hun- 



106 HOW ''THE WAV WAS PREPARED. 

ger. No one would take the job in 1862, the expira- 
tion of South's time ; and South was allowed to hold it 
a year free of cost. He held it in this way until men 
could think — one year; until the obtuse, untaxed, un- 
cultivated mind of Kentucky chivalry could grasp the 
question economically, and dig out of the conglomera- 
tion. I do not mean to iniimaic, even, that there were 
no men of mind in Kentucky who could see a way out 
of the dilemma. There were some, but very few. But 
the majority, who could vote down every measure for 
improvement, who had always relied upon the life and 
energy of the slave for their thrift and independence, 
voted down every measure of economy for resuscitation. 

Finally, finding no other way, — convinced that 
under Mr. South the condition of the prison grew no 
better, the wardenship was given to Colonel Harry I. 
Todd, with the agreement that he should put the insti- 
tution into a good condition, which he did, for Ken- 
tucky, up to March 1, 1804. 

The occupations at which the prisoners Avere em- 
ployed were carpentry, blacksmithing, coopering, tail- 
oring, shoemaking, stonecutting, and hackling, spinning, 
and weaving hemp. 

Hemp was really the staple, and employed at least 
four-fifths of the men ; and any branch of it was very 
destructive to life, not so much from the amount of 



"BLACK HOLE OF CALCUTTA:' 107 

physical energy to be put in requisition, as the dust 
necessarily arising from the abrasion indispensable to 
the work. Of these branches the " hackling house " 
was worst of all. Here was the place where the hemp 
— sometimes eight feet long — was di'essed on steel- 
toothed hackles, after being broken from the stalk, 
filling the room so full of dust — poison dust — that on 
a still dry day it was impossible to distinguish a man 
from a block of wood, even in a window or door. I 
have seen six men out of twenty -four in one week, 
taken to the hospital from that " Black Hole of Cal- 
cutta," and die in another week. 

Spinning stood next in its destructive effect upon 
the prisoner. This was done by fastening a belt about 
the body, with an eight-inch string attached, to which 
was fastened a stick with a notch, called a drag, which 
Avas hitched to a rope running on pulleys at each end — 
for hemp spun into warp fifty-two yards long, for 
filling, longer or shorter, to suit convenience. These 
ropes turned the wheels, so that the faster the spinner 
went backward, the faster the wheel turned — with the 
dust rising right under his nose, and inhaled at every 
breath; and the thread, if warp or chain, as it is called 
— about twice the size of wrapping twine — cutting 
right through to the bones of the hand; and it iimst 
be done! If filling — about half the size of sheep- 



108 HOW ''THE WAV WAS PREPARED. 

twine — sometimes full of liemp sticks — often a fourth, 
or less, or more — half a stick half an inch through, 
running into the spinner's hand — rip! clear to the bone; 
for he must pull out his tow with one hand, right 
under his mouth, and hold and regulate the twist with 
the other; and any sticks must break, or break the 
hand. 

The weaving shop was physically more irksome, 
though not so dusty as spinning, and this less so than 
hackling. The warp — fifty-two yards long — was ready 
beamed ; and the weaver had to draw in, or tie in, his 
piece, and weave from one hundred and four to two 
hundred and eight yards per day — by hand, — treading 
— throwing his shuttle by a string attached to plungers, 
or blocks, each side, and working a seventy -five pound 
lathe with the left hand. Thus the hemp was made 
into sacking, or bagging for cotton, for the New 
Orleans market. As early as 1844 a slave's task at 
weaving was seventy-five yards a day. The task in the 
prison rested on the kind of man, the price of hemp 
and bagging, — contracts — really, the market. 



CHAPTER XTI. 

My Own Experience — Craig's Conduct. 

TAURING my first imprisonment, I was treated with 
^ more consideration than Northern people were 
expecting from Kentucky. Captain Craig was a mem- 
ber of the Baptist Church, had some acquaintance with 
Northern people, was a friend of the Rev. Howard 
Malcom, a Northern man, then president of Georgetown 
College, and w^as proud to be called magnanimous by 
Northern people. 

Upon my second imprisonment, I found him inex- 
orable. I was sent to the hackling house, kept there 
four weeks, and there felt from the hand of the reluc- 
tant overseer, W. W. Da^ds, the first ien cuts from a 
rawhide. At one time I fell upon the ground floor 
for relief, my face doA\ai. Some one said: 

"Mr. Davis is coming." 

I lay still. He came in, looked, turned, and went 
out. At another time I felt desperate. I ran out, 
leaned my back against the house, my face to the Avind, 
gasped a few times for breath, then ran to the hospital 
whispering : 



110 HOW ''THE WAV WAS PREPARED. 

"Chloroform! chloroform!" 

A few inhalations from a saturated handkerchief — 
some vertigo — the spasms ceased; I breathed easy, 
and returned again to my torture. After Craig's 
wrath had somewhat abated, I was sent to the filling 
walk, the place where the filling was spun from the 
tow dressed out of the hemp. 

An ordinary task at that work required a walk — half 
walk and half trot — of thirteen miles a day backward. 
I have often seen the new spinner with his ankles so 
swollen that he was just able to hobble to his cell at 
night: sore, tired, hungry; lungs filled with hemp 
dust; head aching, and feverish; hands gashed by 
the thread, and flesh gashed with the rawhide for some 
trifling mishap, or slight to avoid what it purchased 
with usury. 

I worked at this about one year in all ; sometimes 
in the shoe-shop, when the press was intense for that 
work; and once I was sent to the cooper-shop, where 
my business was making flour barrels, pork barrels, 
cedar pails, wash tubs, etc. While there Captain Craig 
attempted to vent his vengeance on Miss Webster, 
then in Madison, Indiana, — got the two charges raised 
upon the court docket at Lexington, Kentucky, which 
had been erased in February, 184:5 ; procured a demand 
from Governor Powell upon which she was lodged in 



SHOT IN THE BACK. Ill 

jail to await investigation. She sued oiit a writ of 
habeas coiyus. Craig went down to resist the writ. 
Miss Webster was discharged. Craig was defeated, 
after large expenditures, in getting her once more into 
his power; and when on his way to the steamboat, 
going home,— just as he was at the wharf, he was shot 
in the back by the mob, the ball entering at the left of 
the spinal column, and lodging against a bone in his 
right breast, very nearly taking his life. When the 
news came to me, I was watched to see what could be 
made out of me, by a dirty, tale-telling, murderous 
miscreant, Gardner, in alliance with one John Fought, 
the foreman, who by fear or flattery suborned others in 
the shop to testify against me ; I bowed my head upon 
my breast, faint with fear of what might come of it to 
me, sighed, and raising my head, said : 

" J'm sorry; sorry for his family. He oughi fo 
have staid aicay.''' 

A few days passed. When Craig had sufficiently 
recovered, I was locked in the dark cell for a few days, 
then brought into the yard and tried upon the testi- 
mony of the witnesses referred to, who, all biit one man 
in the shop, testified that I said: 

" J'm glad of if! I icish they had killed him!'" 

One man testified to the simple truth, and was soon 
removed to the hemp. 



112 HOW ''THE WAV WAS PREPARED. 

During this summary trial any attempt on my part 
(never more humble) to a defense, to examine and 
cross-question witnesses, was promptly and tyrannically 
checked. At one time I attempted to point out a con- 
tradiction in the testimony ; but before I could make a 
statement so as to engage Craig's attention, I was 
knocked down, his heavy hickory cane being shivered 
into tooth-picks. 

I was sentenced to receive thirty-nine cuts from the 
raw-hide on my bare back, which — though dealt with as 
much lenity and consideration as could be maintained, 
by Mr. Ephraim Whiteside, the second keeper, and my 
friend, who knew well the inside of the whole question 
and its animus; who despised Craig for his vanity, 
pride, tyranny, dishonesty and silliness — cut into my 
flesh nearly every stroke. I felt them clear through 
to the lungs as if they were beaten with a cudgel. 
While executing this sentence, Mr. Whiteside dealt the 
first two blows lightly, when Craig promptly stopped 
him : 

''Stop! Mr. Whiteside, those shanH count. They 
are too light. Begin again. Strike harder!'''' 

But before he had done he hit two of the thirty-nine 
cuts across the waistband of my pants, and Craig could 
not summon courage to order another addition. All 
this injustice grew out of the spleen he entertained 



THE SCHOOL OF SCANDAL. 113 

toward me for my sentiments and my partiality toward 
Miss Webster. 

Our time of labor was from daylight until dark. 
Our bed-rooms, cells of stone and brick, four and a lialf 
feet by seven from back wall to door, and seven feet 
high. Our beds, the straws of Bedlam, or something 
better at times; and our bed-fellows, swarms of fleas 
and bedbugs. Our food Avas, in the main, bacon, and 
cornbread mixed with hot water. At times we had beef 
soup, beef, potatoes, green corn, etc., when they did 
not cost too much. Our coft'ee was made from burnt 
rye, in the same forty-pail kettle, with the same old 
grounds cooked over and over for weeks, until sour. 

Craig was very pious, vain, prejudiced, revengeful. 
He seemed to think that the world owed him a peculiar 
veneration above anybody else, — that w^isdom must die 
with him. Every Sunday we looked for him in the 
School of Scandal. 

He invariably appeared in the desk of the chapel 
on Sunday, when at home and well, whether he had 
the chaplain's services or not, — sometimes in the 
morning and sometimes in the afternoon; and often 
held us from two to four hours with dissertations on 
law, gospel, theology, philosophy, race, and the "Insti- 
tution." It made but little difference about his text; 

8 



114 HOW "THE WAY" WAS PREPARED. 

it was the same School of Scandal for its variety and 
unlimited scope. 

One time as lie was dealing out peculiar lessons to 
the prisoners, and aiming at one of the distinguished 
prisoners who dared to say Avhat he wished, ihe 
prisoner said: 

" Captain, you ake too tedious." 

"Well, Thompson, I don't know but I am:" and 
closed at the end of three hours. 

At one time Mr. Waller, prison clerk, attended a 
lecture by special request; and having planned to take 
a train at a given hour, rose and said: 

"Captain, I must go. It is my train time." Craig 
had then talked three hours; and held on two more 
after Mr. AValler left, making a lecture of five hours. 

Invariably he poured his invective and tirades upon 
me over Northern Abolitionists' backs in his Sunday 
lectures until I became entirely disgusted; and to such 
an extent that I had bat little to choose between them 
and the result of contempt. On one Sunday of his 
last winter, he had been dealing out his wisdom for two 
hours, when, becoming tired of it, I took shelter behind 
a pillar in the room, and with my back toward him 
and against the pillar, was quite absorbed in the senti- 
ments of a Christian philosopher, when 

^'' Fai^'haiikV broke my thread of thought. 



PUNISHMENT ESCAPED. 115 

" Sir? " 

" What are you doing?" 

"Eeading, sir." 

"What are you reading for?" 

"Because, sir, I don't' want to lose all my time 
here," 

" But, ain't I talking to you?" 

"Yes, sir, but I don't want to hear you talk." 

"What is the matter, Fairbank?" 

" Sir, you abuse me, and my people." 

" I do? Well, come out here, and sit on this front 
seat," and I obeyed. 

" Now, Fairbank, let us do better." 

I expected that, as a result of my independence, I 
would be locked in my cell, and receive a severe raw- 
hiding; for that was the instrument then in use for 
inflicting penalties ; but for some reason I escaped it. 

Craig ran for the keepership before the Legislature 
of 1853-4, and was beaten by Zebulon Ward of Cov- 
ington. His time drew near its close. He had no 
hope of votes. Four weeks more, and Zeb. Ward 
would take his place. No potatoes, no bread. Day 
after day, nothing but old, fat, yellow bacon. Two 
weeks had passed; and bread but three times. Mr. 
Adams, the keeper, demanded the task. I complained. 
It was of no use. Now, my redress lay in a complaint 



116 HOW ''THE WAY'' WAS PREPARED. 

to the Governor. The prison committee represented 
His Excellency. Richard Wintersmith, Secretary of 
the Treasury, was a member of that committee. He 
was in. I complained. Next morning the men in the 
weave shop, working near me, and on the side next the 
yard, shouted: 

''Look! look! look! Banks, look!'' There stood 
Governor Powell, shaking his finger right under Craig's 
nose. Next morning the boys from the shops kept a 
lookout. Our weave shop was in the second story, at 
right angles with the kitchen. As soon as the entrance 
doors were opened — just before bell time, — another 
shout — 

" Huzza for Banks! " for the kitchen Avas full of 
steam from hot coffee and hot coknbread. 

Craig made his appearance with the following: 

"Boys, there's plenty of corn now." And we had 
plenty for the remaining two weeks, when Zebulon 
Ward Took the Keys. 

This was March 2d, 1854. Ward was a tyrant. 
He was called the ''Blood Sucker'''' of the county. He 
cared nothing for human life. Money was his religion. 

Craig had made his farewell to the men assembled 
in the chapel. The Governor and the officers of state 
were there ; and in their presence, he handed over the 



''IF I KILL YOU ALL.-" 117 

great gate key to Ward, who made the following short, 
sharp exponent of the man and his administration: 

"■Men, Fm a man of few words, and prompt action. 
Do your duties, or Fll make ye! Go to your work.''^ 
That fell like hot shot. That was what it was. Next 
Sunday we were called to the chapel again. As soon 
as order was restored. Ward stepped into the desk, 
stripped off his overcoat — 

"Men, I understand that some of you are dissatis- 
fied with my time of working, I shall let no man hold 
a watch over me. I'll not allow you to break me up. 
I came here to make money ; and I'm going to do it if 
I kill you all. If any of you claim the ten-hour 
time of working, just get right up, and go to your 
cells!" We all sat still and smiled. But it was like 
Shakespeare's smile — ^^When I smile, I murder.'''' 



CHAPTEH XYII. 

The Prisoners Overworked. 

TITABD'S rigorous, murderous rule was announced 
' ' and anticipated in those two exhibitions. What 
I say of it will be to show only its barbarity, as com- 
pared with Craig's. 

The common task at weaving under Craig was from 
one hundred and twenty-j&ve to one hundred and fifty- 
yards of coarse hemp sacking with two to two and a 
half threads or shots to the inch. Of this I could 
weave — and did often weave — two hundred and twenty- 
five yards of that quality in a day, and counted the 
overplus as over-work on Saturday night. Every fifty 
yards over-work counted us twenty-five cents. Under 
Craig one hundred and fifty yards required, at most, 
thirteen thousand five hundred shots. 

Ward required as his task two hundred and eight 
yards a day, with five shots to the inch. That made 
the task twice the number of shots to the yaM and 
fifty-eight yards more than under Craig. So that we 
wove under Craig thirteen thousand five hundred shots, 
and under Ward thirty-seven thousand four hundred and 

118 



THE PRISONERS OVERWORKED. 1 lU 

forty. You see, Craig made fifty yards apiece, Ward 
fifty-two. It was Ward's plan at first to lease the 
prison; which he did the following winter, at six 
thousand dollars per annum, and made in the four 
years one hundred thousand dollars. 

The lease system upon which I have just said Mr. 
Ward obtained the prison from the state through the 
Legislature of 1854-5 was virtually a sale, with very 
little difference between the condition of the prisoner 
and that of an actual slave. I mean that, as the slave 
is entirely at the mercy of his master, there is no reason 
why he should not expect to be treated T\dth abuse, 
only that such treatment would militate against the 
highest interest of the master. This was the condition 
under the lease system, Avith slight mitigation. The 
committee whose duty was to look into and correct con- 
ditions in the prison if necessary, had the same power 
as under the partnership system. But, under either 
system, the keeper, either in person or by his assist- 
ants, tried summarily, and punished at discretion. But 
the state of class in the South legimately enters a 
chapter in the social code that bars any person from 
the business of any and all other persons of the privil- 
eged class. Any interference in any abuses by the 
upper class is known to be cause of perpetual enmity, if 
not of Avar. So that the case which shall warrant inter- 



120 HOW '-THE WAY'' WAS PREPARED. 

f erence must be one of extraordinary barbarity ; and the 
master and the keeper could do about as they pleased. 

I know the question arises, How can a keeper 
treat a prisoner inhumanly in violation of a law of pro- 
hibition? My answer is — First, the books can't stand 
up, stretch out their arms and punish, without prohibi- 
tionists of pluck behind the prohibitory statutes to 
enforce them. Second, in most cases the prisoner dare 
not complain, for fear of oppression as the result; and 
other prisoners dare not interfere and report. And the 
deputy keeper must be of sterner stuff than most of 
them are made, to pluck up courage enough to expose 
his employer and master and lose his place. 

At one time the legislative committee sent Mr. Ward 
for me, ostensibly for information as to the conduct of 
the prison: and on leaving me to go before the com- 
mittee alone, he said: 

"Now, MIND WHAT YOU SAY." 

That I understood to mean, If you expose me I'll 
torture you in return. I was asked, 

"What is the conduct of this prison? — How does 
Mr. Ward treat the prisoners?" My reply was, 

"Gentlemen, I am a prisoner.'''' 

That was enough, and I was dismissed. The com- 
mittee understood me to mean " I dare not tell the 
truth against Mr. Ward." 



THE SMACK OF THE STRAP. 121 

When I say that Ward buried two hundred and 
forty men, out of three hundred and ninety, I do not 
mean that these were all the men he had under his 
charge. They kept coming in and going out. But 
three hundred and ninety was about the average there at 
one time under him, and three hundred under Craig. 

The previous history of this place is mere pleasant 
exercise compared with what followed, for four years, 
and to a great extent up to 1863. Let me give a sam- 
ple of one day. From daybreak until dark, men worked 
as for life, knowing that, when next day dawned, who- 
ever was behind, felt the utmost of the strap. Monday 
was settlement all around, unless it came Saturday 
night. If so, the men were then locked into their cells 
all day Sunday. After Monday, the smack of that 
strap, and frequently two were in full play at the same 
time, and the howling of the victims could be heard 
every minute of the day. Men cut off their hands, cut 
their throats, drank poison, and in various other ways 
rushed eagerly upon the gates of death. Did I? No, 
not I! I was tasked by the day, timed by the hour, 
for two hundi-ed and eight yards, thirty -seven thousand, 
four hundred and forty shots of the shuttle by hand, 
from May to October, 1854, and not a day did I escape 
that strap, except on Sundays and on the Fourth of July; 
and never less than twice, and in most cases four times 



122 HOW ''THE WAY" WAS PREPARED. 

a day, receiving from fifty -five to one hundred and 
eight cuts of the strap on the bare posterior — not for 
disobedience but for failure to execute a task as really 
beyond my reach as the sun in the heavens. I could 
never weave more than a hundred and sixty-five yards 
of that sacking, and that was two thousand and seven 
hundred shots; more than twice as many as Craig's 
task called for. Every moment of my time in that 
shop under Jack Page, I was liable to be called: 

"Come down here!" 

It was the first thing in the morning, then before 
noon, then after noon, and the last thing in the evening. 
Sometimes Jack and "Salty" Sam (Sam Thompson), 
both well whiskied, would strip for the work, and one 
dealt on until tired ; then, pufiing, would hand the strap 
over to the other, until a hundred and eight stripes 
seemed to appease their wrath, the walls ten feet away 
being spattered with particles of flesh and blood. 

The year 1856 was the most terrible of my whole 
life. Ward never retained any of my letters or my 
money. That was not what he wanted. He wanted 
wealth. At one time Laura S. Haviland sent me a 
letter, in which she wrote, "enclosed find five dollars," 
and I called at the office for the money. The clerk, 
turning to his book, said: "You haven't anything on 
record." 



SIXTY-FIVE LASHES. 123 

"I received a letter from Laura S. Haviland, in 
which she writes, 'enclosed find five dollars.' " 

"I don't care; you haven't anything here." 

Turning to Mr. Ward, I said: "The clerk says I 
haven't anything on record, and here is a letter from 
Laura S. Haviland, with the statement, 'five dollars 
enclosed." '" 

"Clerk," said Mr. Ward, "put tliat on record and 
give Fairbank what he calls for. Laura S. Haviland 
is a Quaker, and won't lie; but I hate her as I do the 
devil." 

Often my letters came when he felt too busy to 
read them, — too anxious to get to his marbles. If from 
Gerrit Smith, he would hand them to me: "There, if 
you can read that, you are welcome to; I can't." 

You ask, "How did you sit on your bench and 
weave?" Well, I was sore, of course. It was like 
sitting on boils, or sore eyes. I used to bring out my 
blanket and roll it up small, or roll up my coat and sit 
on it as on a saddle; for weave I iiiiist. Often we had 
to resort to strategy. At one time Jack Page had dealt 
me sixty-five lashes. I felt that I could not endure 
longer, and, looking up into the brute's face, said, 

''Look here, old fel." 

"AVhat do you want?" 

"Ain't ye guine to do something?" 



124 HOW '-THE WAV WAS PREPARED. 

"Do what? I been doin' my best this half hour." 

"May be you have; but I can't see it. I felt some- 
thing like musquitoes or gnats about me," 

"Well, if ye don't enjoy that, I guess I'd better 
quit;" and putting up his strap, he waddled out. 

At another time he stood at the desk, looking over 
the foreman's slate. 

"Cleveland, Fairbank, and Hall, and Bailey, and all 
the fellers over tliar, are behind; and I'm guine to 
whale every d d one of um." 

I took time by the fore-lock; and leaving my loom 
I went to the tool box, just behind the desk, and taking 
a hammer, a nail, and a wrench as a ruse, I straight- 
ened up, and said: 

"Mr. Page!" 

"Well, what now?" 

" Ain't it about time to give us a little of ^ Hardy'' s 
hesV?'' (the strap). 

"Don't you fret. I'll give you hell plenty soon." 

I went to my work. He called and whipped all 
about me, and left me out. This was in the summer 
of 1857. 



ONE MORE SCENE OF BARBARITY. 1'17> 

One More Scene of Mingled Barbarity and 
Triumph. 

This, I think, was in November, 185G, after the 
summer's ordeal had mainly passed. I was behind as 
usual. Page came with the indictment and trial — 

"Get down here!" 

I pleaded. It was of no use. I said: 

" I can't make that task." 

" I know it, d n ye! I don't want ye to, d n 

ye. I want to kill ye!" 

I came down. He laid on. My wrath resisted 
the pain, greatly. I said to him, 

" Page, you can't kill me in this way." 

I kept count of the stripes. This, mind you, was 
always on the bare posterior muscles. Eight there, in 
my reach, lay the handaxe and other dangerous weap- 
ons thirsting to avenge my wrong: — my hand instinc- 
tively, involuntarily made the incipient effort — again! 
— again! — almost clutched the instrument of death 
that would have wrought my own ruin. But there was 
a voice of wisdom counseling me — a quiet, still small 
voice — 

"Hold! Hold! I will not leave thee ! Kemember, 
there are faithful men and women who are relying on 
thy fidelity. Thy conduct must not deceive them. 
Much of the future of this question depends on thy 



126 HOW ''THE WAY'' WAS PREPARED. 

integrity. Remember, those friends in Ohio, New York, 
Massachusetts, Rhode Island, New Hampshire and 
Vermont long to greet thee again. And that faithful 
one, whose heart is plighted to thee, waits just over 
the border, to receive either thy dead body as her 
trophy, or thee, just liAdng, to nurse thee back to life 
again. Courage ! — Faith ! ! — Victory ! ! ! " 

Then, lost to torture, bonds, and imprisonment, — 
lost to all but friends, home, National Republican vic- 
tory and final domestic comfort, I lived in the blessed 
near future, marshalled the hosts of freedom to the 
music of all rights for all ; saw the legions of despotism 
melt away like frost before the representatives of the 
American idea, and lived again in my own free North. 
I had counted sixty-five before passing into that exalted 
state. I awoke; and the inquisitor was busy at his 
favorite task; and I counted sixteen more stripes. I 
ha4 counted eighty-one stripes in all. How many had 
I lost? How long had the brute and his instrument 
been playing upon me? The men about me agreed 
in counting one hundred and three. So, you see, I 
had lost twenty-two strokes of the strap, without reali- 
zation. 

On Mr. Ward's first Sunday in the prison he de- 
clared his character, — the soul of the man, which will 
be, beyond the gates, as to all characteristics, precisely 



PLAYING MARBLES. 127 

what it is, and must be while he lives and after he 
ceases to live. His object was money, mixed with a 
little fun provided it did not cost him too much. The 
Sabbath in the prison was simply a play day, just 
apparently conformed to what law existed on the books. 
All kinds of play, social recreation, literary exercises, 
athletic indulgence, and religious worship was free to 
all without regard to race, color, or descent. All rights 
for all, was about his motto ; and mainly, I think, from 
the tendency of mirthfulness. Marbles w-as the stan- 
dard amusement of the place. I have known him win 
all the tobacco from the players; then, when any one 
pleaded, 

^^ I have no siake^ 

'^Here, I'll give you a stake." 

Then win it back, and putting the men in line, let 
them march past him and give it all away to men whom 
he knew used the weed. He did not chew, smoke, or 
drink intoxicants. Often the men would be formed in 
lines, and two men stripped for the race and running — 
the men shouting as the minister entered the yard for 
service. He would often stand enjoying the sport, then 
to the chapel to go through the farce of religious 
exercise. 

Zeb Ward was a free-thinker in some respects, — I 
mean, he often declared that any man could "worship 



128 HOW "THE WAY'' WAS PREPARED. 

according to the dictates of his conscience; — sing, pray, 
preach, play marbles, euchre, or quoits. If you want 
to run, run. If you want to wrestle, wrestle. But, when 
this bell rings for chapel, — it makes no difference who 
preaches; whether Jim Morgan or Mr. Norton — the 
man who dares laugh wants to go to his cell." He 
played with his men as with his dogs. Whipped them 
as a boy his top to make it spin, — as the engineer 
crowds on steam to make time on his road. He enter- 
tained no social sympathy which acted as a restraint 
upon his brutality incited by acquisitiveness; but 
played or whipped as best enhanced the gratification of 
his mirthfulness or acquisitiveness. 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

A Speech before the People of Kentucky. 

TITAED'S term closed March 1st, 1858, and he was 
' ' succeeded by Jeremiah W. South of Breathitt 
county, with Bowen as his partner They were both 
born and bred Democrats of the Southern stripe ; and 
upon the inauguration of the Rebellion, were in full 
sympathy with it. To illustrate this reign, would be 
only to illustrate Ward's over again, with some modi- 
fication owing to more humanity in the man, less 
executiveness, and a spirit of humanity combined with 
Kentucky pluck in a maiden daughter of about thirty 
years, who invariably did her best to defend me. 

Jack Page held his position as hemp boss through 
this reign of five years. I was often locked up on 
Sunday, besides my forty to two hundred and fifty 
stripes. Eliza, the daughter, often made inquiry; and 
finding me locked in my cell for failure of a task which 
she knew to be exorbitant, demanded the cell-key. 
came to my cell, often with her face adorned with the 
jewels of her sorrow for me, unlocked my door, saying: 

9 129 



130 HOW ''THE WAV WAS PREPARED. 

"If Page, or any one else, asks you who let you oiit, 
tell tliem I did." 

Thus that noble Kentucky woman, even a rebel as 
she was, saved me many a day of misery — many a 
living death; for ten strokes of that strap inflicted the 
pains of death. 

I had been often urged to speak — it mattered but 
little on what subject; but rather on the National 
question growing out of the anti-slavery agitation. I 
refused, saying, " You want my cheese." But the 
Kansas crisis pointed, as I thought, to war between the 
North and the South. So I selected my subject, taking 
for my text: " Righteousness exalteth a nation; but sin 
is a reproach to any people." " Watchman, what of 
the night? Watchman, what of the night?" I then 
informed Assistant-keeper Sam Thompson of my readi- 
ness to speak. 

The time was fixed for February 14th. This was 
1858. Notices were sent to the press at Frankfort, 
Lexington, Louisville and Bardstown, and brought out 
Governor Charles S. Morehead, and the State officers, 
both Houses of the Legislature, and citizens — ladies 
and gentlemen from distant cities and towns of Ken- 
tucky. We had a full house of the elite of Kentucky 
and the yard beloAv was packed as at a presidential 



''THE WAR IS INEVITABLE." 131 

inauguration. Mr. Whiteside stepped out — beckoned 
me, and turning to the audience, said: — 

"Your Excellency — Ladies and Gentlemen: — This 
is our distinguished prisoner, Mr. Fairbank. You will 
hear him." 

Governor Morehead suggested that I take my place 
in the double door which overlooked the audience 
in the yard, which I did. I then delivered a prophecy 
of the war, and Republican triumph, occupying perhaps 
an hour, closing with the following: 

" Governor, Ladies and Gentlemen: ' The war is 
inevitable, and let it come! I repeat it, let it come!^ and 
Kentucky will be the theatre ; and you'll ' fight horse- 
bridle deep in blood,' and slavery will melt away like a 
hoar-frost; and out of it will spring a government of 
all the people, by all the people, for all the people." 

The audience were electrified — swayed like a mighty 
forest in a wind. 

Governor Morehead congratulated me, but, said he, 
"Fairbank, you are crazy. The Yankees won't fight." 

"Well, Governor, you'll see." 

"But, do you think your party will ever come into 
power?" 

" Well, we will try it. 

Said Senator K: — "Fairbank, you are crazy." 

"So the Governor says." 



132 HOW ''THE WAV WAS PREPARED. 

" Why, we shall whip you so quick it will make 
your head swim." 

"Well, you shall see what you shall see.' 
Senator John M. Prall: "Well, Fairbank, you hit 
the nail on the head; only you got through the war too 
soon. It will last about four years; and the South will 
be whipped; and equal suffrage will be the result." 

This was three years before the war; it made an 
impression and won to the Union and the Republican 
party one of Kentucky's noblest sons, John M. Prall 
of Bourbon county. 



CHAPTER XIX. 

The War. 

TAURING this reign John Brown woke the Govem- 
^ ment at Harper's Ferry; and sixteen men, with 
that John-the-Baptist of Republicanism in America, 
shook the whole United States. That made my neck 
ache; for Kentucky saw clumps of imaginary men 
under arms in many a nook — in many a moon-shade. 

Then the signal gun at Charleston promised a ful- 
fillment of my prophecy three years before; and the 
war came, and slavery melted away like a hoar-frost. 

Three times, during the three years from February, 
1861, to April, 1864, rebel soldiers sought for me, rope 
in hand, to hang me. Once I stood in the kitchen door 
with axe in hand, and as they approached, beckoned — 

"Come on, boys! Come on! You're not afraid of 
me?" 

Bragg captured Frankfort October 7th, I think, 
without burning a grain of powder, and held it for 
seven weeks, to about the 25th of November, 1862, 
during which time all communication with my friends 
ceased. During that time a company of Louisianians, 

133 



134 HOW ''THE WAY'' WAS PREPARED. 

headed by a sergeant, came into the prison and visited 
me in the weave shop, not knowing, probably, of my 
identity, and formed for both themselves and me an 
agreeable acquaintance. The sergeant was a very 
pleasant fellow to talk with; and becoming interested 
in me, asked, 

" What are you in here for? " 

That was a sticker; for, at first, I knew not how to 
answer. But the thought struck me, and I said, 

" For having one more woman in my possession than 
the law allowed me." 

" Well, you go with us, and you can have as many 
women as you like. We donH punish a man for having 
more than one wife." 

They were urgent that I should go out and join the 
army, and they would protect me. Some days after 
they came with a rope, and inquired for Fairbank. 

"What! you are not going to hang him, are you?" 

"Yes, we are, sure." 

" Well, he works in this shop somewhere. Ask that 
little engineer up there. He will tell you." And they 
went in that direction. 

As soon as they were out of sight I sprang through 
an open window, ran to the carpenter shop, and Mr. 
Whiteside hustled me into an upper room where he 
stowed me away, and so saved my life that time. 



-•1 PROPHECY FULFILLED. 135 

At another time I was told that a squad of '" Rebs "' 
was coming in to hang me. I took time by the fore- 
lock and hid myself for the day, and so eluded them. 

All through that struggle from February, 1861, to 
the very last I had access to the papers, and was 
posted as to the strength and location of the army. 
During the battle of Bull Eun I was allowed to leave 
my work in the shoe-shop and sit in the chapel, where, 
in company with my friend Eliza South, I received the 
printed dispatches of the work of slaughter. Legisla- 
ture was in session during most of the time. Governor 
Magoffin was a rebel; and, finding his efforts to draw 
the state out of the Union fruitless, he resigned. 

The next Sunday after the first Bull Run, the mem- 
bers of the legislature with many other gentlemen and 
ladies came in as usual to see and hear me. I was 
called from the library into the middle of the yard, 
where timber was arranged for building. John M. 
Prall then called out, 

" Here, Mr. Fairbank, — here is your pulpit. Your 
prophecy of three years ago is so far fulfilled." 

I took my place in the center, Avhen one called out, 

" Well, Fairbank, how is it now? '' 

"Good! You can't say Fm a prisoner without a 
party." 

"But, how's the war?" 



136 HOW ''THE WAY" WAS PREPARED. 

'• Fine. We beat yon at Bull Rnn." 

"How's that?" 

Some one said, "I see his idea. It is this: If we 
had been beaten we would sue for terms; they would 
be accepted, and slavery would stand. But now the 
Yankees have just begun to get mad, and we will catch 
h— 11." 

I was wearing an old black slouch hat, and in dress, 
as in manner, felt and exhibited a legitimate insou- 
sciance; and jerking off my hat, — rising in my shoes 
and hurling the old slouch high in the air, I shouted, 

" 'O generation of vipers! Who hath warned you 
to flee from the wrath to come ? ' Yes ; our boys who 
were more accustomed to Sunday-school than to murder 
have just got the bark knocked off their shins, and 
you'll catch Hail Columbia! and a Union victory would 
have been a defeat. Slavery is used up. So I count 
Bull Bun a glorious victory. You see, 'Whom the 
gods would destroy they first make mad.' Our defeat 
will kill slavery. Huzza for Bull Run! " 

Thirty-five Thousand, One Hundred and Five 
Stripes in Eight Years. 

During Ward's reign from 1854: to 1858, and four 
years of South's reign, from 1858 to 1862, I suffered 



THIRTY-FIVE THOUSAND STRIPES. 187 

the infliction of one thousand and three floggings with 
the strap elsewhere described, averaging thirty-five 
stripes at each, making a total of thirty-five thousand, 
one hundred and five stripes. Sometimes one ; some- 
times five, ten, twenty, fifty, sixty, one hundred and 
eight. These were mostly suffered under Ward : and of 
his reign, mostly in summer. Now, you ask, how did 
did you keep count? Well, I could count most of 
the time, — and the men in the shop always counted; 
and when I failed to keep count, I asked the men. 
Then, I marked — posted, week by week — year by year 
the number of lashes I endured. Three times during 
South' s reign I was so pressed for my task, that, though 
I was not flogged as much as under W^ard, I was re- 
duced to one hundred seventeen and a half pounds 
weight. My height is five feet, nine and a half inches. 
My usual weight was one hundred and eighty pounds. 
To be reduced to one hundred seventeen and a half 
pounds left me quite frail. 

Small-pox had found its way into the prison through 
the army in February, 1863. I found myself obliged to 
report invalid and risk that contagion in the hospital. 
I did so, and was received: and next day, by my own 
choice, separated with the small- pox patients from the 
others, preferring to risk its results to being sent back 
to the weave shop, by and by, after a little recruited, 



138 HOW ''THE WAY" WAS PREPARED. 

and there slain. Very soon my small-pox hospital had 
accumulated seventy-five cases. 

Now, before this the Union Army had driven out 
the rebels. My brother Daniel from Portage, Ohio, 
came in the One Hundredth Ohio Eegiment. It had 
been determined to let me out. But, the general's 
heart failed, then the colonel's, then the captain's. 
Finally my brother came in with power to take me 
out. The governor after Magoffin, had promised, and 
hung fire. At last, I was promised next day. So I told 
my brother, 

"I will go to-morrow noon, if Governor Robinson is 
not as good as his word by that time." 

Next morning before day, the bugle sounded for a 
forced march after Scott and Morgan. My brother 
left with the army, and I remained over a year longer 
—until April 15th, 1864. 

I remained in the hospital fifty-one days, as that 
was quarantine time, — had a mild type of varioloid ; and 
came out, I think April 2-ttli, sound and strong, with 
a weight of one hundred and eighty-one pounds. Out 
of my seventy-five cases I lost but five, and two of these 
would have been safe, had they not been complicated 
with erysipelas and typhoid fever ; and one of the other 
cases was fatal from fright. Fright is worse than 
small-pox in the case. 



CHAPTER XX. 

Harry I. Todd's Reign. 

A MAN of "/ety ivords and prompt action" assumed 
-^ control of the prison March 1, 1863, before I left 
the hospital. He was a square, just, honorable man — 
loyal to the core. In the fall — in August — Thomas E. 
Bramlette was elected Governor and Kichard T. Jacob 
Lieutenant-Governor. That was my daylight. Jacob 
was brother-in-law to Fremont — a good friend to me, 
and believed my conviction illegal. When assistant 
keeper Lawler announced his nomination I shouted — 
"HALLELUJAH ! ! ! That's my daylight ! " I 
well knew that they would be elected, and that the 
first time Bramlette should be called away (and that 
would probably be soon), Jacob would pardon me as 
lieutenant and acting governor of the state. 

Day began rapidly to dawn for me. Miss Mandana 
Tileston, to whom I was engaged by marriage contract 
in 1851, had left her New England home and repaired 
to Ohio, where she could watch over my condition, and 
if possible render me service, and established a tempo- 
rary residence as a teacher at Oxford, so that she could 

139 



140 HOW "THE WAV WAS PREPARED. 

watch events through friends in Cincinnati, and Frank- 
fort, Kentucky and administer to my comfort. Through 
her, in concert with Levi Coffin of Cincinnati, and 
Laura S. Haviland, then of Adrian, Michigan, I was 
constantly supplied with money and articles of com- 
fort during that whole period from 1852 to April 15th, 
1864. As often as her vacations would allow her 
absence, she visited me in prison, strengthening my 
heart, supplying my wants, petitioning the executive, 
and by her open, frank, brave and simple fidelity 
made many friends among even the most inflexible 
pro-slavery citizens. This, and my own consistent 
inflexibility to principle, had gained for me the respect 
and admiration of the magnanimous of both sides of 
the question. Public feeling had softened. Kentucky 
began to view me as a martyr. The war had wrought 
a vast change in the fact. Public sentiment was 
entirely in my favor. 

In November, 1863, I was sent to the shoe-shop 
again; and in a few days asked to go out at day-break 
and build some fires, and keep watch that the hands 
who came out soon after and went onto Todd's farm to 
build a wall, took nothing surreptitiously. Then, for 
the first time, I was relieved of task. Todd could use 
the men as best conserved his advantage for a whole 
year, provided he treated them humanely, and put the 



"WHAT YOU DOIN' HEREr' 141 

prison generally in good condition; for it had been 
entirely impoverished under South. 

I had charge of the Avood and fires for the chapel, 
shoe-shop and tailor-shop. Some time in February, 
1864:, by order of keeper Whiteside, I was piling some 
wood in a recess between the harness-shop and shoe- 
shop, both being in the same room, when Legree the 
Second, Jack Page's brother (Jack had died of whisky 
erysipelas), came in (he had no authority in any but 
the hemp-shops), and, after looking about, shouted, 
" What you doin^ here?'''' 

"Piling this wood, sir." 

''Well, you stop it. D'ye hearf'' 

" I hear, sii', but I'm ordered to pile it." 

''Who ordered it?'' 

" Mr. Whiteside." 

"D — n ye! stop it!''"' 

I kept on. Soon I saw a stick move out, and heard 
the familiar curses and opprobrious language. 

I took no alarm at this. It was a common occur- 
rence. The next instant I supposed I had hit the stove ; 
and that was a thought of the duration of a flash of 
lightning. Then I knew nothing for ten minutes. 
Dead! But recovering consciousness, AVhat am I? — 
no idea. Where — after recognizing myself, — where am 



142 HOW ''THE WAY'' WAS PREPARED. 

I? Then a voice, " He's not dead." Lying on my back, 
I put out my hand and sat up. But I was blind. 

"Boys, what's the matter? I can't see." 

A voice: "You are hurt." 

Legree: "He a'n't, neither! Let him alone!" 

But the men led me to the water tub, just the same; 
and upon the application of water my sight was 
restored. I had been cut over the left eye, on the hair- 
line, a gash two inches long, half on the scalp and half 
on the forehead, perpendicularly, fracturing the skull. 
Mr. Whiteside had been sent for, who hustled the brute 
out of the yard on double-quick. But after a week he 
was allowed his old berth upon promise — in fact he was 
ordered not to even speak to me unless I invited it. 
About the last of March he was passing my loom look- 
ing so penitent — so forsaken, that I relented, and ad- 
dressed him: "Mr. Page, how do you do?" 

"Pretty well, Fairbank. Say, I'm d — n sorry I hit 
you that time." 

But my equilibrium was not restored; for I seemed 
to be whirling in a circle; and that sensation was in- 
tensij&ed — aggravated upon every motion of the head; 
and especially a motion up or down. Many times I 
have been saved from falling by an arm behind me. 
In July, 1864, upon the cupola of the Chicago court 
house the arm of Rev. Eichard De Baptist saved me a 



IN THE HANDS OF THE GOVERNMENT. 143 

fall of nearly one hundred feet. The same difficulty 
has afflicted me until within less than a year. 

There were three parties of the people: 1. A large 
minority who were out-and-out rebels. 2. A small 
minority of radical loyalists. 3. A small majority of 
conservatives — who held to the side of safety: — loyal 
because loyalty was safest. 

Kentucky was in the hands of the Government. 
Public sentiment had been culminating in my favor, as 
the people lost their grasp on the ''Institution.'''' 

James L. Sneed was clerk of the prison — had 
always been my friend — was organized with large 
humanity — was a conservative. 

Tobin, an Irishman — an out-spoken, moderate rebel 
— was friendly with Sneed ; had always been my friend. 

Dr. Rodman, prison physician, had always main- 
tained an unswerving constancy to me — was organized 
with large humanity also ; was conservative ; had a son 
in the Confederate army; committed himself to neither 
side. 

Robert Lawler was a sub-keeper — rebel — strong 
friend to me. 

Ephraim Whiteside was for many years second 
keeper; radically loyal, and my friend. 

Harry I. Todd was firmly — stubbornly — uucom- 



144 HOW ''THE WAV WAS PREPARED. 

promisingly for the Union. He was the warden — kept 
his own advice. 

Richard T. Jacob, Lieutenant-governor, had been 
committed to my favor for years: had said to me before 
the war: " //" J tvas Governor I icould furn you oid io- 
dayy He was son of John I. Jacob, of Louisville, and 
son-in-law to Thomas H. Benton of Missouri. So that 
he was related to, and inherited good blood. 

Above and beyond all this, my affianced, Mandana 
Tileston, at Oxford, Ohio, had been all these years wait- 
ing, watching, pleading, suffering, — expecting, at last, 
either to carry away my dead body, or carry me living, 
the remainder of our earth-way. 

All these had been pleading. General James 
Harlan had pledged his services. But as many other 
of the unqualified Union men suddenly and mysteri- 
ously went down, so he went down. I was anxious for 
Bramlette's absence for a while, that Jacob might hold 
the helm for a few hours; for Bramlette refused to 
interfere. I knew Jacob would. The time had at last 
arrived when the people and the Government could 
see distinctly that it was the Afkico-Ameeican's War: 
— that as he went, we went; as we went, he went: — 
both must go together. 

President Lincoln had sent General Fry to Ken- 
tucky with orders to enroll all the African people: — 



A BOMB-SHELL. ' 145 

slave, free, — male, female, — old and young; and the 
men competent for military service separately. Gov- 
ernor Bramlette forbade it. Fry reported to the Presi- 
dent. Then was opened a discussion over the wires 
for several days. I watched this as my "forlorn hope." 
Finally the President telegraphed: 

" Thomas E. Bramlefte, Govei-nor of the Common- 
rcealth of Kentucky, greeting: Come before me 
forthwith, to answer to charges." 

That fell like a bomb-sliell in the camp of enemies 
in disguise. Bramlette was not long gatliering up his 
traps and heading for Washington. 

Jacob was Governor, and hastened to Sneed. 

"Sneed, I'm Governor. This is Fairbauk's day. 
I'm going to turn him out;" and they two sent Lawler 
to me. 

"Fairbank, you are going out. Did you know it? 
Jacob is Governor, and will be up to see you at noon. 
Put your best foot forward. I'm going to help you."- 

After bell for dinner, we had huddled as usual, 
talking up the war — " 'Rail for Sherman! " " "Rah for 
Lee!" and so clear through the roll. I had my eye 
out for Jacob. By and by — 

"How are you, Fairbank? Well, I'm going to turn 
you out. Sneed, get up a little petition to knock the 
blows off me. I'm going to turn him out anyhow.'* 



146 HOW ''THE WAV WAS PREPARED. 

I asked, " Governor, what shall I do for you when 
I get out?" 

"Talk about us like li-l. We've abused you. You 
had no business here." 



CHAPTER XXI. 

Pardon — Reception in the North. 

QO ended, at last, seventeen years and four months 
^ imprisonment for the American Slave, 

That night at the Capitol Hotel, with a mixed 
audience of all colors, races, ranks and political parties 
— with a ring of half -clad Africo- American children 
six feet deep staring me in the face ; with Speed and 
Prall, and Crutcher, and other plucky Union men, we 
gave vent to our pent-up faith in airing the subject 
until one o'clock next morninor. At one time I heard a 
rustling of silk and a sqiieaking of shoes as an elegant- 
appearing lady stepped into a chair. 

" Which is ihe nig gar thief?'''' 

"Here I am, ma'am." 

"Oh, excuse me, sir. I did not mean to insult you, 
sir." 

"No matter, ma'am; no matter. That's my name." 

Now I want to tell a good story which properly 
belonged anterior to this. Kemember, I told you that, 
on Sunday, February 14, 1858, Governor Charles S. 
Morehead said to me, " Fairbank, you are crazy. Do 

147 



148 HOW ''THE WAV WAS PREPARED. 

you think your party will ever come into power?" At 
the outbreak of the Rebellion, he made a treasonable 
speech ; and was sent to Fort Warren, in Massachusetts 
Bay, where he remained a year. Upon his return I 
requested an interview with him. He came in. 

"Well, Fairbank, 'I understood you wished to see 
me." 

"Yes, I wanted to ask you if you had made up your 
mind that my party had come into power." 

He smiled, and looked beat. "Ah, Fairbank, I'm 
just out of jail." 

Next morning, armed with a pair of Colt's best from 
John M. Prall, I entered the cars for Cincinnati, Ohio, 
via Lexington, and took a seat quite near Ben Gratz, 
a Jew farmer, and another Kentuckian of his neighbor- 
hood, when the following conversation occurred ; 

"Mr. Gratz, I hear that Fairbank is to be pardoned.'* 

"Well, — yes, I heard some talk this morning that 
he was, already. All I'd ask would be one pop at him. 
I'd shoot him as soon as I would a wolf." 

I was sitting with a Kentucky lady, who had 
volunteered to accompany me to Cincinnati for my 
protection. The four seats in our front were empty. 
Drawing my pistol, just screened from sight by the 
back of the front seat, I asked, 

"Ben Gratz, would you know Fairbank on sight?'* 



'•NOW, BEN, I'D GIVE IT UPT 149 

Hesitating, he said, "Well — yes, I think I should.'" 

"Well," said I, "here I am;" showing my revolver 
and resting it on the back of the seat in our front. 
"But you'll have to be mighty sharp; for I think I 
have the first pop." 

Then such a clapping of hands and huzzahing; and 
— "Now, Ben, I'd give it up!" 

And he did give it up handsomely; rising from his 
seat, stepping toward me, with his hand extended — 
"Now, Mr. Fairbank, I acknowledge the corn. Let us 
make friends and call this a joke." 

I crossed the Ohio that evening before dark, so 
overcome with joy that, falling upon my face, I kissed 
the dirt of my adopted State, and, rising to my feet, 
and throwing my hands high in air, I shouted: "Out 

OF THE MOUTH OF DeATH! " " OUT OF THE JAWS OF 

Hell!!" 

Twelve years, five months, and six days, involun- 
tarily on Kentucky soil; seventeen years and four 
months a prisoner since 1844. Forty-seven slaves 
liberated from hell ! Thirty-five thousand, one hun- 
dred and five stripes during eight years from May 1, 
1854, to May 1, 1802. Up to the liberation of Mr. 
Hayden and family, I had liberated forty-four slaves. 
During the short time I spent in Southern Indiana in 
1851, I liberated, before undertaking the case of 



150 HOW "THE WAV WAS PREPARED. 

Tamar, for whose liberation I was sent to prison for 
fifteen years, Julia with her babe, whom I met in 
Windsor, Canada, opposite Detroit, in 1864, in excel- 
lent circumstances. Fourteen years I had been shut 
out from the enjoyment of civilization ; fourteen years 
banished from home, friends, country, citizenship; 
fourteen years deprived of domestic comfort, which in 
its distant imagery cheered me in my deepest gloom 
through that long night of despotism. "But thanks 
be to God who giveth us the victory" by faith! His 
hand was under me; His everlasting arm upheld me. 
"Thy rod and thy stafP, they comfort me." Oh, the 
Comforter brought to my remembrance whatsoever he 
had said unto me; and my faithful Mandana waited, 
and watched, and prayed, and visited and cheered to 
the very last. 

Reception at Cincinnati, Ohio. 

I went directly to the residence of Henry Boyd, 
an ex-fugitive slave who escaped in his boyhood, and 
worked his way to competence, as a mechanic — a man- 
ufacturer of bedsteads. No one in the room recognized 
me ; but Mrs. Adams, the youngest of the family, soon 
came in, and immediately solved the problem. 

Said she, "Well, I don't know who it is, unless it is 
Calvin Fairbank." 



RECEPTION AT CINCINNATI, OHIO. 151 

I then went to Levi Coffin's, whom I found alone, 
in his sitting room. " Good evening, Levi." 

"Good evening. But thee seems to have the ad- 
vantage of me." 

"Don't thee know me, Levi?" 

"Well, this canH be Calvin Fairbank, can it?" 

Then after a happy greeting, and fraternal ex- 
changes, he went to the chamber door, and called out, 

"Katie, come down here. Here is some one thee 
would like to see." 

Aunt Katie came down, — shook hands, steadily and 
doubtfully eyeing me. 

"Who art thou?" 

"I am an old friend." 

"I don't know thee." 

"Don't thee know -me?" 

"No, I dont. Tell me who thou art." And away 
she went upstairs again. 

But Levi called her back, and asked, " Does not 
this look like Calvin Fairbank?" 

Then looking at me a moment, — "No. Thee arn't 
Calvin Fairbank at all." And she wheeled aAvay. 

Said I, "See here. Do you know I had lost my 
big toe from my left foot?" 

"Well, well! Sure enough this is Calvin Fairbank." 



152 HOW ''THE WAY" WAS PREPARED. 

This was Saturday night, April 16th. Next morn- 
ing early, before daylight, I was roused by the matin 
bells calling the votaries of his Holiness to morning 
worship. And, O, they passed and the time passed, 
until I almost concluded that a new order of things had 
been inaugurated in Ohio. But morning came at last, 
and Levi hastened to spread the news among the vet- 
erans, and make preparations for the service of the day 
and evening. We met, in the morning, in the large 
Baptist Church on Longworth street, I think, about 
three hundred people, to whom, after a short sermon by 
the pastor, Wallace Shelton, Levi spoke in his plain, quiet 
way a few minutes, then introduced me. I of course 
was not very vigorous after so chronic a siege in the 
jaws» of the monster, and particularly after three nights 
of almost sleeplessness — for I had slept but little since 
Wednesday night — and spoke birt a short time. 

In the afternoon, after Rev. Wallace Shelton and 
Levi, I spoke about a half hour to some six hundred 
people. But in the evening I had the whole of the time, 
after introduction by Mr. Coffin to more that three thou- 
sand. Every seat was crowded — more than could sit in 
comfoi't; and all standing room, even the altar, and 
steps to the pulpit itself, and the windows; and people 
standing outside trying to look in — to catch some word. 
I was dressed in my freedom suit — a pair of short 



''SING, CHILLEN, SING!" 15:^ 

pants, short vest, and coarse rowdy hat, with an old 
scarf about my neck. 

I labored under a great difficulty in presenting a 
tasteful appearance on account of a white stripe in 
front between my vest and pants, and to avoid making 
too great a display of it, I kept partly behind the 
pulpit. 

Kitty Dorum sat away back near the door. 8he 
was a large, tall old black woman Avho had escaped 
from slavery in her thirteenth year with thirty-six 
cents, with which she bought some shirting, got some 
one to cut it out and start her in at sewing, made up 
the garments, sold them, bought more cloth, made it 
up and sold the garments until, in 18 04, she had ac- 
cumulated a good property. She was rich. She rose 
in her dignity like Sojourner Truth, and swinging out 
a white handkerchief, called out — 

"Chile, come out from behin' de pulpit, dar! 
Stan' up straight, chile!" 

Then, drawing her kerchief around her waist, — 
"Look dar! He looks like he "had a new moon tied 
aroun' 'im. Sit down, chile, we heai-'n enough. Sit 
down. Sing, chillen, sing! Sing de bes' ye got;" 
and throwing up her hand, — "Lift it! lift it! Now we 
wants money for brother Fairbank." And they did 
sing, indeed. Then, as the custom of that people is, 



154 HOW ''THE WAV WAS PREPARED. 

they took up the line of march, passing down the right 
hand aisle, to the front, and past a table in the altar, 
leaving their contributions there. Several times I saw 
persons who had passed and made their contributions, 
pass and leave a second, and third contribution. 

Soon Kitty Dorum came crowding her way down, 
— "Get out de way, chillen! Kitty wants to come." 
And, passing the table she waved a ten-dollar bill with 
evident satisfaction, and flung it on the table, — "Dor! 
Dat's de way to do it." We took up over one hundred 
dollars. A committee was then appointed to select and 
purchase me a suit; and Levi CoflBin, Wallace Shelton, 
and Kitty Dorum constituted that committee. 

Soon after this, the Battle of the Wilderness was 
fought. We were at Boynton's church. Dispatches 
came in every few minutes; and as often Rev. Mr, 
Boynton, according as the message was good or bad, 
called out "Brethren, pray!" or "Sing 'Praise God!'"'' 
Then, when the message came, — "Our boys have 
recovered their ground, and are advancing on the 
enemy," — "Sing 'Praise God from whom all blessings 
flow' ! Now let us go to the Gazette ofiice and stay 
there all night. Take everybody along." 

All night until the light of morn began to streak 
the eastern sky. every inch of room about the ofiice — 
the middle of the street, and away up to Orchard street 



''AFTER YEARS OF FAITHFUL WAITING:' 155 

was thronged with anxious people waiting for the dis- 
patches as they came to the Gazette office, and from 
there sent on through watchmen standing in the win- 
dows, and repeating the messages as they were read; 
and they echoed, and murmured wildly as they swept 
through the city from mouth to mouth. The city was 
in patriotic bloom, and swelling with martial ardor. 
Seventy -five thousand boys were called from Ohio, and 
responded heartily to the call. 

I hastened to surprise my friends at Oxford with 
an unexpected arrival. Miss Tileston was boarding at 
Mr. Shuey's. She had written me ; and Mr. Whiteside 
had remailed her letter with a statement, ^'- Fairhant: is 
■pardoned.'''' She held the letter as a secret. I had 
called at the Cincinnail Gazette office; and Editor 
Smith had promised secresy, but revealed it. The 
Shuey family had the Gazette as a secret. Mr. Shuey 
was in Cincinnati — had come in possession of the fact: 
— had overtaken me on the road, and was anticipating 
a surprise ; when all were surprised that, instead of sur- 
prising every one, no one surprised any one- for all 
were in the secret. 

After all these years of faithful waiting on the part 
of a true Yankee girl we were married on the ninth of 
June following, and entered upon the long-anticipated 
realization of domestic comfort, which for twelve years 



156 HOW ''THE WAV' WAS PREPARED. 

and three months lighted up our way toward the better 
land, when she was swept from the face of earth 
September 29th, 1876, to join 

" Friends fondly cherished, who'd pass'd on before," 
and leaving with me a precious boy of eight years: and 
a name that shall remain an example to the world, for 
she "being dead, yet speaketh." 

After my marriage, and return to Cincinnati I 
attended a communion service in the Baptist church 
which had extended me so cordial a welcome on Sun- 
day, April 17th previous, and preached the Com- 
munion Sermon. An Africo-American sat in the 
pulpit with me, and made the opening prayer, revealing 
in his voice, tone, sentiment uttered — referring to past 
events, that I must have known him before. After the 
service Avas over I asked him : 

"Who are you? Is your name Burns? Are you 
the man whom Ward sold down the river wearing a 
collar and horns?" 

"Yes, I'm the man." 

"Well, fact is straBger than fiction." 

He said he had skipped away out of his cabin by 
night, fastened his horns and twisted them off, fled to 
a man he knew who unpinioned his arms by breaking 
the lock, then fled on, lying in the brush by day and 
watching until he found an old trusty slave who cut 



"BARBARISM OF SLAVERY." 157 

the rivet that fastened his collar, and so escaped into 
Ohio. He was known by parties in Cincinnati as a 
pious, faithful, able preacher in the Baptist Church. 
When speaking of Baptists here, I mean the Africo- 
American Baptists. 

We next visited Chicago ; and I had the pleasure of 
the hospitality of many of her best citizens, among 
whom was John H. Dimmock, a lawj-er of reputation, 
who furnished for the Tribune a letter which reads as 
follows : — 

Rev. Calvin Fairbank. — We yesterday had the pleasure 
of an introduction to this gentleman, now in this city, and 
spent an hour ormore attentive and most interested listeners 
to an account of his long imprisonment and barbarous 
treatment in the Kentucky penitentiary at Frankfort. 
Many of our readers will remember reading about the kid- 
naping of Rev. Mr. Fairbank from Jeflfersonville, Indiana, 
in 1851, and his being taken to Frankfort, Kentucky, and 
after undergoing a sort of mock trial, of his being convicted 
of the charge of aiding and assisting a slave to escape from 
bondage to freedom, and sentenced to fifteen years' im- 
prisonment in the state prison of Kentucky. We had heard 
much and read much in regard to the "barbarism of 
slavery," but never, until we heard the statement of the 
reverend gentleman from his own lips, did we fully compre- 
hend the awful, devilish monstrosities of the slave ]iower. 
We will give a brief statement of the case, as related to us, 
believing that our readers will be greatly interested and bene- 
fited by the publication of the facts in this extraordinary case. 



158 HOW ''THE WAV WAS PREPARED. 

In November, 1851, Rev. Mr. Fairbank was in Louisville 
on business, and while there was made acquainted with the 
case of a young slave girl, nearly white, who was endeavor- 
ing to escape to the free states. She was the property of 
a citizen of Louisville, and was named "Tamar." The 
story she related to Mr. Fairbank — though such as 
thousands in her condition could truly relate — so worked on 
his feelings and so aroused his sympathies and indignation 
that he determined to render her escape certain. On the 
night of November 2d they crossed the Ohio from Louis- 
ville to JefPersonville, Indiana. The girl secreted herself 
in a field while he went in pursuit of a horse and buggy. 
Before daylight he got her, cold and benumbed, into the 
buggy, and that day (November 3d) drove thirty-four miles 
into Indiana, placed her among friends, and himself re- 
turned with the horse and buggy to J effersonville, where he 
remained about a week. On his way to church, on the fol- 
lowing Sunday, he was assaulted and seized by the 
Marshal of Louisville, Kentucky, and a watchman of 
Louisville, assisted by the claimant of the escaped slave, 
and thus kidnaped he was taken by force from Indiana 
into Kentucky. He was thrown into prison in Louisville, 
where he lay about five months awaiting trial, bail being 
required in the sum of five thousand dollars, which he of 
course was unable to procure in that state. 

On the 25th of February, 1852, Mr. Fairbank was 
arraigned for trial, although no direct evidence was offered, 
and nothing but the slightest circumstantial evidence given, 
such as his being seen in Louisville on the same night the 
girl escaped; still, being determined to punish him under 
slave laws, they convicted him under their statute relating 
to enticing slaves, and he was sentenced to fifteen years' 



'THE HORRIBLE WHIPPINGS." 159 

imprisonment. Diiring the time of his imprisonment he 
was subjected to the most brutal, wicked, and inhuman 
treatment conceivable. When he first entered the prison, 
the profits arising from the labor of the prisoners was 
divided between the state and the warden, or prison con- 
tractor. Each prisoner was required to perform an allotted 
amount of work, which was equal to what a strong, well 
man could do at the utmost exertion of his strength and 
endurance. Mr. Fairbank's strength and health soon failed 
him, and he was utterly incapable of performing his tasks. 
Then commenced the horrible brutality to which he was 
subjected. He was put at the hardest, dirtiest work, and 
orders were given by Newton Craig, the then warden, to 
"kill him." The insulting language constantly addressed 
to him — the hated tones of voice and insolent and abusive 
manner, to say nothing of the horrible oaths directed to 
him, were enough to prostrate a man of his refined and 
sensitive mind. But all this was as nothing compared to 
the horrible whippings inflicted upon his naked person! 
Forced to lean forward over a stool, chair, or bench, he was 
made to strip, and then with a sole-leather strap, eighteen 
inches in length, two inches wide, and about three-eighths 
of an inch thick, soaked in water and fastened to a handle 
about two feet long, he was flogged, sometimes daily, some- 
times four times a day, for not performing a heavier task 
than it was possible for him to do in his state of health. 
He was given from two to one hundred and seven lashes at 
a time. Sometimes he would escape a flogging for a month, 
and once six months passed off without his being whipped. 
During the time he was imprisoned he was brutally flogged 
more than one thousand times because he had not fulfilled, 
through weakness and exhaustion, the task imposed upon 



160 HOW ''THE WAV WAS PREPARED. 

him. On one occasion, during the last winter, a keeper 
named Whiteside, and the only human man connected with 
the prison management, had directed Mr. Fairbank to cord 
up a lot of wood. While doing this, an under-keeper named 
Jeffries came along and asked Mr. F. roughly what he was 
doing that for. Mr. F. replied that he was doing it by order 
of Mr. Whiteside. Jeffries ordered him not to cord up any 
more wood, and Mr. Fairbank replying that he must do as 
directed by the officer highest in authority, Jeffries, in a 
rage, seized a stick of wood and struck Mr. F. over the 
temple a blow that cut to the skull, knocking him blind and 
senseless, and which placed him in the prison hospital for 
several weeks, and from which, owing to the shock to the 
brain, as in the case of the assault upon Senator Sumner by 
bully Brooks, he has not yet fully recovered. 

How many times the heart of the poor prisoner sunk 
within him, how many times he j^rayed earnestly that death 
might end his sufferings; how he was kept alive, and was 
permitted to hope on, and live, is known only to his God. 
Yet it is a great wonder how the mind could have been pre- 
served from utter wreck and ruin — how it was that insanity 
did not deprive him long since of all consciousness of the 
cruel wrongs he was obliged to suffer and endure. 

But have we not the explanation in the knowledge that 
he surely possessed, that there was waiting for him a 
loving and devoted heart, made all the more loving, 
devoted and constant by his civil bondage and the horrors 
to which he was subjected? Was it not that he knew, or 
had faith to believe that her efforts in his behalf would 
never cease ? And that he owed it to her, if not to himself, 
to endeavor to bear with Christian patience and manly 



''THE STAFF OF LIFE TO HIM." 161 

fortitude the grievous afflictions which he was compelled 
to experience? 

At the time of the imprisonment of Rev. Mr. Fairbank,. 
he was engaged to be married to Miss Mandana Tileston, 
of Williamsburg, Mass., a young lady of rare personal 
attractions and mental endowments. And the qualities, 
both of heart and mind, which this estimable lady possessed, 
will be best illustrated by stating that, during all the time 
of his imprisonment (from November, 1851, to April, 1864), 
Mr. F. was the one particular object of all her thoughts and 
all her devoted affections. Her loving, and cheerful, and 
hopeful letters were as the staff of life to him! Though 
stripped of all his money, clothing and property when he 
was imprisoned, and after his other means failed, she sent 
him money with which to supply his wants — furnished him 
a bed, bedding, towels, linen, and funds with which to 
provide himself with suitable food, coffee, tea, etc., and to 
supply him with such comforts as it was possible to do, and 
that he might not be obliged to eat the miserable prison 
fare which was supplied by the warden. She visited him 
in person in 1853, 1855, 1859, 1860, 1863, making constant 
efforts to procure his pardon. 

At length, after twelve years, one month and six days 
dreadful imprisonment in the state prison at Frankfort, 
besides the four months he was in jail in Louisville, Mr. 
Fairbank received a pardon from Lieutenant-Governor 
Jacob, of Kentvicky, and was restored to his liberty. 

During the six last years Miss Tileston has been residing 
in Oxford, Ohio, as a teacher, where she might be near Mr. 
F. and where she could be enabled to furnish him with con- 
tinued means. As soon as he was set at liberty, he repaired 
11 



162 HOW ''THE WAY" WAS PREPARED. 

at once to her place of residence, where they were married 
a few weeks since. 

On leaving the prison he was furnished with five dollars 
from the prison fund and an old suit of clothes, such as a 
hod- carrier might wear. None of his personal property 
was surrendered to him. the present keeper refusing to give 
it to him, saying to him, "All this property is mine!" 
Seventy-five dollars sent to him was withheld and kept by 
the warden, Newton Craig. And after almost thirteen years 
of imprisonment at hard labor, stripped of all his means, 
he boarding himself during his incarceration, he is again 
free! 

What a martyr to the benevolent impulses of the human 
heart, has he not been! What an illustration of the "bar- 
barism of slavery," is his history! What an example of 
true womanhood. What an instance of that constancy, 
devoted aflPection, and self-sacrificing spirit which is the 
true ornament of the gentler sex, the rare exhibition of 
which in these degenerate days, makes this illustrious 
instance stand out in transcendent beauty and holiness! 

Reception at Detroit, Michigan. 

Leaving Chicago after a month's very gratifying 
entertainment, we took a steamer for Detroit, where we 
enjoyed a reception by invitation of the most prominent 
citizens of the place, among whom were E. B. Ward, 
Kev. George Duffield, Rev. W. Hogarth, and Rev. James 
M, Buckley, now editor of the Christian Advocate at 
New York, as follows: 



RECEPTION AT DETROIT, MICH. 163 

A Public Discourse by Rev. Calvin Fairbank. — The 
following correspondence has already been alluded to by us 
and will explain itself. We hope that Mr. Fairbank will 
secure a numerous attendance, and can assure all who may 
be present of an interesting narrative. Mr. Fairbank has 
been stripped of health and means. He desires to publish 
an account of his imprisonment, in such a form as will be of 
pecuniary benefit to him. It is proper to state that at the 
lecture provided for in the correspondence, an opportunity 
will be afforded those who may feel inclined, to contribute 
for the object named. 

An Invitation. 

Detroit, July 30, 1864. 
Rev. Calvin Faiebank — Dear Sir: 

The undersigned, learning that you will remain in Detroit for 
some days, and appreciating your devotion to human freedom, and 
sympathizing with the sufferings you have endured on that account, 
would be pleased to hear from your own lips on some public occasion 
the recital of the incidents of your twelve years' imprisonment in 
the state prison of Kentucky for the sole alleged crime of giving 
practical application to the sublime precepts of the Golden Rule. 

H. P. Baldwin, E. B. Wabd, 

Allan Sheldon, Wm. A. Howabd, 

L. G. Beekt, Geo. Duffield, 

John J. Leonabd, John P. Soott, 

Wm. a. Butleb, John H. Geiffith, 

David Peeston, S. Eldeedge, 

A. Sheley, H. D. Kitchell, 

Lyman Baldwin, R. W. Kino, 

Daniel Chambeelin, J. Owen, 

Campbell, Linn <fe Co., S. Conant, 

Stephen Balmeb, H. Hallock, 

W. Hooabth, James M. Bucklet, 
Kellogg, Gbanoeb & Sabin. 



164 HOW ''THE WAV WAS PREPARED. 

Mr. Fairbank's Reply. 

Detroit, August 2. 1864. 

Gentlemen — I have just received your letter of the 30th ult., 
requesting me to give on some public occasion an account of the 
unjust imprisonment from which I have lately been released, and 
during which I suffered at the hands of a "horde of petty tyrants" 
all the horrors legitimately arising from the institution so long a 
blight to American civilization. I am glad to accept your invita- 
tion, and will on Sunday, the 7th inst., at 7)^^ o'clock p. m., at the 
Congregational Church on Fort street, give a detailed account of my 
arrest, imprisonment, and pardon on the 15th of April by Lieu- 
tenant-Governor Jacob, then acting Governor. 

Meanwhile I shall look forward to that occasion, confidently 
hoping that I shall be able to afford you satisfaction and meet your 
most sanguine expectations. 

I crave, gentlemen, the privilege of subscribing. 

Yours, for the slave, 

CALVIN FAIRBANK. 

To Messes. H. P. Baldwin, E. B. Wabd, Wm. A. Howabd, W. 
HoGABTH, James M. Buckley, Geokge Duffield, John Owen, A. 
Eldeidge, H. D. Kitohell, and others. 

At Ypsilanti the report is as follows: 

Several introductory exercises having been gone through, 
the Rev. Calvin Fairbank, the orator of the evening, was 
introduced, and was received with cheer after cheer. He 
gave a long history of his capture, sufferings, and release 
from the Kentucky penitentiary. He also eulogized the 
Christian fortitude and truly womanly bearing of his be- 
trothed, who, on his release, was immediately joined to him 
in holy wedlock. 

Ann Arbor, Michigan, reports: 

Rev. Calvin Fairbank, who was kidnaped from Indiana, 
November 9th, 1852, and lodged in Louisville jail, put in 



WELCOME AT OBERLIN. 165 

irons, and finally sent to the prison at Frankfort under sen- 
tence of fifteen years, for giving aid and assistance to a slave 
girl who had escaped from her master, A. L. Shotwell of 
Louisville, and pardoned on the 15th of April last by Lieu- 
tenant and Acting Governor Jacob, in absence of Governor 
Bramlette, after suffering more than twelve years, will speak 
at College Hall, to morrow evening (Sunday, 18th inst.), at 
seven o'clock, giving a history of his arrest, trial, imprison- 
ment, suffering and pardon. As we see from the public 
papers, Mr. Fairbank's case is one involving romance and 
tragedy: Romance, in the faithful adherence of a faithful 
young woman, Miss Tileston, of Williamsburg, Mass., who 
left her home in the far east and repaired to the west, to 
watch the interests of the one she loved, and their marriage 
on the 9th of June; and tragedy, in the barbarous and mur- 
derous treatment through which he has passed, and comes 
to us living. He states that he has received more than one 
thousand floggings, equal to more than thirty-five thousand 
lashes; and other abuses in proportion. Come and hear 
him. 

Our next welcome was at Oberlin, where we enjoyed 
the freedom of the most renow^ned community and 
institution of learning in the country, having sent into 
the field as ofiicers, soldiers, nurses and teachers more 
men and women than any — I came near saying than 
all the other schools in the United States put together. 
I don't know how far I should have erred if I had. I 
spoke in the Second church, wdiich was packed with 
students, Prof. Cowles presiding. 

In his introductory remarks he said: "I am about 



166 HOW ''THE WAY'' WAS PREPARED. 

to introduce to you one who, for his loyalty to the 
^Higher Laio,'' and for his contempt of the law of 
despotism, — scorning alike her authority in her hours of 
prosperity, and her proffers of distinction in her hour 
of peril: and daring to smite in the face a state guilty 
of superlative infidelity to the Nation and the moral 
law, — received at the hands of enlightened infidels 
seventeen years and four months of imprisonment at 
hard labor, and more than thirty-five thousand stripes. 
And still he is not frightened out of his loyalty, but 
stands out to-day as a glorious exponent of the Liberty 
Guards of the Nation. Ladies and gentlemen, I mean 
Rev. Calvin Fairbank." 



CHAPTER XXII. 

Election.— ^My Vote at Oberlin. 

T HAD left Oberlin with the express understanding 
■*■ that I should return, and support the party with 
my vote, I had not voted there during fifteen years, 
my vote in 1849 being the last I had cast in that town, 
though I had, all the while, held my citizenship there; 
and in Cincinnati in 1851 voted the State ticket for Sam 
Lewis for Governor. 

I was in Cleveland; and left just in time to arrive 
in Oberlin at twenty-five minutes before sundown, and 
took a double-quick for the polling place. As I left 
the depot I heard the shout, — " They-e lie comes! Come 
on! Come on!'''' And there stood Peck, Ellis, Plumb, 
Cowles, Hill, Morgan and Charles G. Finney, beckoning 
me on, and shouting, "-Come on! Come on!'''' Almost 
every place has the ubiquitous Democrat; and he was 
here to question my vote. Said Mr. Finney, " Come, 
challenge his vote if you are going to. But, if you do, 
he will swear it in." But he did not challenge, and I 
cast my first vote in the town for fifteen years ; and the 
first Republican vote of my life. 

167 



168 HOW ''THE WAV WAS PREPARED. 

I have always thought well of a religion which 
comprehended citizenship; — of a ministry that found 
sin in bad voting and recognized the obligation of the 
citizen at the polls as a moral obligation. 

At Toronto, Canada— Field-day— Sir Charles 
Napier — His Audience. 

At Toronto, Canada, we enjoyed one of the most 
pleasant experiences since the day of our nuptials, 
mainly, and notably, that I was before a British people, 
who were not as loyal to us as they ought to have been, 
— that I had an opportunity to remind them in their 
own homes, and in presence of high authority, of their 
kinship, and their obligation to our independent mem- 
ber of the English family, without in the least becom- 
ing offensive. But on the contrary, eliciting the 
applause of the great marshal and soldier of the Crimea 
with his staff, and officers of rank, in one of the most 
respectable churches in the city. This was October, 
1864. 

On the Saturday before I had witnessed the most 
magnificent pageant of my life. It was field-day : and 
Sir Charles Napier sat, apparently, an uninterested, 
unconcerned, happy, sandy-whiskered Scotchman, his 
aids riding swift and fleet, — stooping — touching cap, — 
and away to the gorgeously arrayed and exquisitely 



FIELD DAY— SIR CHARLES NAPIER. 169 

marshaled lines — at a sound of the horn sometimes in 
a moment condensing into a phalanx, then spinning 
from some corner, or perhaps two, or more: and sooner 
than I can write it stretching away in glittering lines, 
receding in the distance: then in apparent battle in 
our front: and at another sound, the tieet chargers fly 
over the green, and we are startled with the sound of 
battle in our rear, and sent flying to the barracks. 

So, recognizing the hero of the Crimea mth his 
georgeous suite, and a large number of a lower rank, 
and common soldiery before me, — speaking of the 
animus of the Confederacy, the necessity of resistance 
on the part of the United States, and even aggressive 
war until submission, I said: 

"7 wUnessed your field-da ij yesicrday : and the 
worst wish I entertained was that Grant had Sir Charles 
with ten thousand of his well-disciplined troops on the 
Potomac with him/' 

And Sir Charles rose high in his seat, — his cane 
fell heavily on the floor followed by such a crash, and 
clapping of hands, and waving of flags of both England 
and America blended, as rarely comes to the lot of an 
American speaker on British soil. I had hit the right 
string. I had gained a victory. Surely, I had wit- 
nessed, at any rate, a spirit of friendship in a renowned 



170 HOW ''THE WAV WAS PREPARED. 

British soldier and his hundi'ed spearmen for the 
daughter of their mother. 

Thence we took our way to grand old Allegany, 
New York, visited my mother, and family: and soon 
bent our course for Williamsburg, Massachusetts, where 
we arrived on Thanksgiving day of 1864. 

On January 2d, 1865, we left Massachusetts for 

Philadelphia, where we had been called to enjoy an 

ovation from the people in a most emphatic and loyal 

demonstration in speech and song, and here we enjoyed 

once more — 

"Home again, home again. 
From a foreign shore." 

About the 10th of January I attended one of the 
most extraordinary meetings that come to mortals dur- 
ing a lifetime. Considering the object of the meeting, 
its constituency, its presiding genius, and the character 
of the speakers, it was one the like of which is rarely 
enjoyed in a century. Called by the first citizens of 
Philadelphia for the purpose of entering a protest 
against the practice of the Street Railway Companies 
.toward Africo - American passengers, — refusing them 
room in the same car with white people, — presided over 
by Bishop Potter of the Protestant Episcopal Church, 
and addressed by such men as Robert Purvis, Brewster, 
and Phillips Brooks, it was one of the most notable 



"7 AM A GENTLEMAN!'' 171 

gatherings of the decade. Phillips Brooks was eloquence 
personified. As he poured forth his thoughts he 
swayed like an elm in the storm. After Mr. Brooks, 
came a little man with an intellectual, though hideous 
face. 

"Me. Chairman: I'm a gentleman: because no man 
can hold this ticket (a platform ticket) who is not a 
gentleman. I have not- always been a gentleman. In 
former times I and my father were known as the slave- 
hunter's attorneys ; and whenever the poor fugitive fled 
toward the North Star for his life, we were always 
relied upon to recapture him ; or provide the legal advice 
and instruments for his rendition. Then I was not a 
gentleman. But, Mr. Chairman, I have repented, and 
am forgiven. Now I am a gentleman. I have been 
for a long time disgusted with the practice of the street 
railway companies toward thirty thousand people in 
this city. A gentleman or lady with a dark complexion, 
or a moiety of African blood, -never whiter, if it is just 
believed that an infinitesimal drop of African blood 
runs in his, or her veins, cannot, by their rules, ride on 
their cars with white people, decent, or never so indecent 
if only a claim to Caucassian blood can be maintained, 
but must go to the 'Jim Crow' car. Mr. Chairman, 
what is the objection to this people? They say that 
they are black— that they are homely. Am I not 



172 HOW ''THE WAV WAS PREPARED. 

homely too? Look at my face. I have had people 
turn away from me in disgust. Don't I feel it? Don't 
they feel it? Don't I know what it is? Are not these 
people, many of them, specimens of exquisite symmetry ? 
Every art has been used to make my face look like a 
human face; and still I am hideous to look at. I can't 
help it. They can't help it. But, it is said they smell 
bad. Who makes this complaint? Who are they? 
Why, sir, they are people who patronize onions and 
whisky more than cologne. Whew! — I can smell one a 
mile, now! Mr. Chairman, let us pass this bill of 
instructions, and let these companies know that they 
are not to trample on the dearest rights of community 
— of humanity — to infi'inge and trench upon the ci^^l, 
social, and moral structure of American civilization." 

Mr. Purvis had spoken with great power, and the 
resolves passed by acclamation. 



CHAPTER XXIII. 

At Baltimore, Washington, and Norfolk, Va. 

A RRANGEMENTS had been completed for a re- 
■^ ^ ception at the most aristocratic church of the 
Africo- Americans of Washington; and, receiving a 
letter from Rev. Henry Highland Garnett, its pastor, 
we at once repaired to Baltimore where we spent the 
Sabbath with pleasant results, and on Monday follow- 
ing were in the ^'■Ciiy of vast disiances,'''' a guest of 
Dr. Garnett, one of the most learned and distin- 
guished pure-blooded Africo-Americans in the United 
States. 

At an audience given me in that church, on the 
night of my arrival, I met many of the Northern anti- 
slavery workers who were reaping a little harvest as a 
result of former labors in the cause of freedom. I had 
made the acquaintance of Rev. John Pierpont, then 
pastor of a church in the city, and on a pleasant Sun- 
day we were on our way to his church when I heard a 
call, — saw a man in full run, beckoning — " Doctor, Mr. 
Garnett has sent for you to peeach before the 
President, and more than a score of Congressmen. 

173 



174 HOW "THE WAV WAS PREPARED. 

He has been sick, and is not able to preach. He wants 
you to come right up." 

I sent him to my room for my papers (you see, I 
did not want to preach before such an audience without 
my compass), and preached with satisfaction to myself 
before the most angust audience I had ever addressed. 
There were the President of the United States, his wife 
and family, and most of the members of his cabinet — 
Mr. Seward, S. P. Chase, Mr. Stanton, Mr. Speed; and 
Senators Sumner, Wilson, Hale, Wade, Cass, Gratz 
Brown; and of the Lower House, Ashley, Dawes and 
a score unknown to me, — yes, and there were Senators 
Powell and Garrett Davis of Kentucky, and Lane and 
Pomeroy of Kansas; and the most of them in gold- 
bowed spectacles. It was an august, impressive au- 
dience. 

At the close Dr. Garnett announced that I would 
speak in the Thirty-first Street Baptist church that 
evening: and a Friend from Fair Haven, Connecticut, 
said to me, "Why did not thee tell us thou wert Calvin 
Fairbank before thee began to preach? I should have 
enjoyed it so much better." 

At Norfolk, Va.— John M. Brown. 

When at Oberlin I was familiar with a very intel- 
lectual, pious, zealous young Africo-American — John 



AT NORFOLK, V A.— JOHN M. BROWN. 175 

M. Browii, with whom I was accustomed to go out on 
Sunday, and hold meetings. It was he who called my 
attention to the case of Gilson Berry's wife, which 
finally led to the escape of Mr. Hayden, and my first 
arrest. I found that he was at Norfolk, and wrote to 
him. I had changed my boarding place. One day I 
Avas told that a gentleman had called to see me, and on 
coming into his presence and not recognizing him, 
asked, "Who is this?" 

"My name is Brown. Don't you know me?" 

"No, I don't." 

"You and I used to be fast friends." Still I did 
not know him. 

"Where did you know me?" 

"AtOberlin." 

Then I had to think for a while before I could get 
him into my mind ; for he looked so young and hand- 
some that I could not conclude that pleasant little John 
M. Brown was before me. I expected to see him old 
and broken. At last I recognized him as my fi'iend of 
the days of ^'■Lang Syney We soon went to Norfolk, 
and were met at the landing wharf by Bro. Brown, 
many of his people, a score of teachers in employ of the 
American Missionary Society with Secretary Whipple 
at their head, and escorted to the Mission House where 
we enjoyed a most refreshing stay until the Thursday 



176 HOW ''THE WAV WAS PREPARED. 

before the fall of Richmond, March 30, when we took a 
steamer for Washington, after some most magnificent 
demonstrations of loyalty to ns, to the United States, 
and to God by that people who for two hundred years 
had been crushed under the heel of despotism. There 
were several large Africo-American churches there 
which were unable to hold more than a small minority 
of the people who crowded every place where we 
appeared. The white rebels avoided us. 

President Lincoln's Inauguration. 

March 4th, 1865, was a most horrid morning. Rain 
fell in broken sheets, driven by the wind; but people 
came just the same, moving toward the Capitol until 
twelve M. The mud in .Pennsylvania Avenue was hub 
deep — a canal of batter ; and I stood with my good wife 
from nine a.m. until twelve m. in front of the great plat- 
form, standing on bricks as the rain dashed upon a 
thousand umbrellas. 

Without regard to rain, we took our positions near 
the front platform where the great event was to occur, 
Mrs. Fairbank standing each foot on two bricks where, 
protected by three umbrellas, we remained three hours, 
until twelve m., when the immortal pageant burst from 
the columns of the Capitol. The rain had ceased, the 
clouds hastened to their chambers ; and nature assumed 



THE LEVEE— SOJOURNER TRUTH. Ill 

an air of joy and serenity rarely witnessed on that day. 
Then the short, pointed, brave declaration of the mind 
of the Chief Executive of the Nation — "Deop for drop: 

LASH FOR LASH." 

The Levee. 

At the levee that night thirty thousand people 
passed in and out of the White House. At one time a 
throng was pressing the door of the room where the 
President received his guests, and Frederic Douglass 
among others pressed to the door, when "Hold on!" — 
and others kept passing in. 

"Hold on! You can't go in now. It is not con- 
venient." 

"How is that? I see others passing in." 

Some one interfered, — "This is Frederic Doug- 
lass." 

When Douglass, — "Never mind. I do not want to 
go in as Frederic Douglass; but as a citizen of the 
United States." 

Here comes the great man of the age, President 
Lincoln, with his long arm extended over heads and 
through the crowd. — "Why, how do you do, Frederic? 
Come rig At in!" 

Some time after we were standing in the great East 
room when 

12 



178 HOW ''THE WAV WAS PREPARED. 

Sojourner Truth, 
walking in, and approaching the marshal, said: "I 
want to see President Lincum." 

"Well, the President is busy, I think, and you can't 
see him now." 

"Yes, I must see him. If he knew I was here lie'd 
come down an'' see me.''"' 

Finally the marshal went to the President's room 
with a statement of the case, when the President said, 

" I guarantee that she is Sojourner Trvith. Bring 
her up here." 

And here she came; and we just approached near 
enough to catch the glimpses, and hear the words of 
greeting. 

"Sojourner Truth! How glad i am to see you." 

The President bought her book. Then handing 
him her photograph, she said: 

" Ifs got a black face but a white back; an'' Fd like 
one o' yourn wid a green back.'''' 

That was too good. The President laughed heartily ; 
then putting his fingers into his vest-pocket, and hand- 
ing her a ten-dollar bill said, "There is my face with 
a green back." 

We left Norfolk on Thursday, March SOth, before 
the fall of Richmond. To make this clear, — we went to 
New York after our first visit to Philadelphia and 



"/'Jf A REBEL, SIR." 179 

Washington the first time, then returned to Washington 
and Norfolk, stopping at Wilmington, Delaware, as I 
have said. We had a Government pass and transporta- 
tion. At Fortress Monroe we took on board three rebel 
ladies, one of whom was Mrs. General Helm, in care of 
General Singleton, of Quincy, Illinois. Our state-room 
was the small cabin. Soon they were playing at cards. 
Standing in tlie door the purser said to me, 

"Do you see those three ladies playing at cards 
at that table? That pinky-looking one there is Mrs. 
Helm, Mrs. Lincoln's sister. The other two are going 
to Quincy, Illinois, with General Singleton." 
I soon caught on and said, "I'm a rebel, sir." 
"Yes, I know what kind of a rebel you are." 
"AVell, I am." Then, taking my place on the sofa I 
soon had the ladies beside me, and in confidence pour- 
ing their secrets into my ears. Richmond to be evacu- 
ated! Its overthrow was just a foregone conclusion, — a 
question of time. Mrs. Helm was fleeing to the White 
House, and the others to Quincy, Illinois. But by and 
by they "dropped onto me," as the boys say, and flew 
to their rooms like wild birds. 

On my way up the Chesapeake bay, I got off at 
Point Lookout, imparted to the commander what I had 
gathered from my rebel friends, of the probable immi- 



180 HOW ''THE WAY" WAS PREPARED. 

nent fall of Kichmond, and went on my way toward my 
adopted New England home. 

Fall of Richmond, April 2d. 

Arrived in New York on Saturday night, April 1st. 
The city had been in a blaze of flags, banners, and 
streamers for two months or more. Now the crisis is at 
hand. Morning came, April 2d. We hastened to Sulli- 
van Street church. People held their breath. Sullivan 
Street church is A. M. E., and of course the people were 
anxious. I said, "I'll go back and see what I can 
learn. Wait ye here." I hastened, and learned that 
Richmond had just fallen. I speedily returned, and 
found the minister just reading his first hymn. I paid 
no attention to minister, hymn, or anything else, but 

"Richmond Has Gone Up!" 
Running up into the pulpit, — "Richmond has gone up!" 
The hymn book dropped ! The minister stood entranced ! 
A wail— a shout— a shriek of " H AL-LELU J AH I! " 
swept through the house, into the street and through 
the city like the shout of victorious armies. 

We arrived in Williamsburg, Massachusetts, on the 
14th of April, and early next morning learned of the 

Assassination of the President 
the night before, at Ford's theatre. At the moment of 
our grandest achievement the country was stricken with 



-HOW ARE THE MIGHTY FALLEN!" 181 

deepest grief. Appropriate services were everywhere 
held in honor of the country's illustrious dead — for 
expression of the people's unbounded grief. Boston, 
New York, Philadelphia and other cities which but a 
few weeks before were red with expressions of victory 
and joy, were now black with insignia of the deepest 
grief. Men and women received and breathed the 
inspiration of the hour; and the spirit of prophecy 
caught the rebel mind, and rebel ladies and gentlemen, 
before they were aware, were swelling the airs, — the an- 
thems of the Republic, — chanting the dirge to our fallen 
illustrious hero ; — and they too were among the prophets. 

I hastened to New Haven, Connecticut, and there in 
speech, in song, — with appropriate services we poured 
out oui- sorrow — ''How are the mighty fallen!" In 
Boston during the May meetings I listened to the ever- 
memorable 

Oration of Hon. Charles Sumner, 
in celebration of the life and death of Americans noblest 
son, before fifteen thousand people in Music Hall. 

And here I will close this record, this historj- 
of my life, for there is no need to dwell upon my con- 
tinued work for the grood of the Africo-American 
people, and my private sorrows and joys cannot interest 
the world. I am old and lonely, and looking back upon 
the past, I 



APPE:m)IX. 



June, 1877, found me again laboring for the good 
of the Africo- American people. The Providence (R. 
I.) Journal said: — 

The Elevation of the Colored Race. — Mr. William 
Troy, of Richmond, Va., and Mr. John Gains, of Boston, 
formerly of Petersburg, Va., addressed an audience of 
colored persons in the vestry of the Congdon Street church, 
last evening, upon the elevation of the colored people in the 
South. They took the groiind that if the colored people 
are to reach a higher plane of life than at present exists 
among them in the Southern states, they must attain to it 
by their own exertions, aided by those of their colored 
brethren in the North. They regarded the colored men and 
women in the North morally bound by the ties of blood, to 
take hold of this work, and believed further that they were 
called of God to go South, and to teach, preach and set good 
examples in all departments of life, by which the freedmen 
may profit, for their future good. 

The meeting was held in the interests of the Moore 
Street Industrial Society of Richmond, Va., of which Mr. 
Troy is vice-president, and it is proposed to form an auxil- 
iary society of colored people in this city at an early day. 
Rev. Calvin Fairbank, of Richmond, Va., Superintendent 
and General Agent of the Moore Street Society, who was 

183 



184 APPENDIX. 

for more than seventeen years a prisoner in Kentucky, and 
received a great number of lashes for aiding fugitive slaves 
to escape, was present, and occupied a seat upon the plat- 
form. Previous to the close of the meeting resolutions 
were adopted, in substance as follows: 

First — That in view of the needy condition of the people of 
Richmond, Va., and the comparative ability of the people of the 
Northern States, a very moderate united effort upon the part of the 
people of the latter States would greatly relieve the people in the 
needy districts of the South, and bring joy to the hearts of their 
friends. 

Second — That we feel the utmost confidence in the Moore Street 
Industrial Missionary Society of Richmond, Va., as represented by 
its worthy and able Superintendent and General Agent, Rev. Calvin 
Fairbank, and Rev. Wm. Troy, its vice-president; and we hereby 
pledge our hearty co-operation therewith in attaining the end it pro- 
poses, viz.; the elevation and cultivation of the people of color in 
that vicinity in the arts and sciences and the industrial avocations. 

Another meeting will be held at the Pend Street Free 
Baptist church next Monday evening, for the purpose of 
taking steps toward the organization of an auxiliary society. 

And in my loneliness, and looking back upon the 
sunny days of the past, I wrote, through the Newport 
(Rhode Island) Daily Neivs: 

To the Editor of the Daily Neivs : 

I am pleased that in taking account of the events of the 
week the journalists for the people have not forgotten 
the history of our past, which has moulded and constituted 
the present, nor the eventful experience of some of us yet 
rejoicing in its happy results to the country and the people. 

At this date, looking back to the time when my boy 
heart bounded with hot blood for poor sufPering humanity, 
the uprising public sentiment against an institution which 



APPENDIX. 185 

had brought mildew upon the social, political and moral 
condition of a great section of our country, — the goal just 
within my reach, the voluntary sacrifice I made upon the 
altar of duty, the novel events that have attended my life up 
to the present, I do not wonder that it has often been said 
of it that '■'■truth is stranger than fiction y 

I hold in my hand a clipping from the Liberator of 
November, 1851, containing a letter of my own published 
in Frederic Douglass' paper. I hold in my hand a clip- 
ping from the Chicago Tribune of 1864, rehearsing the 
sacrifice, the tragedy, the outrage, the long, long-continued 
suffering in prison, the constancy of woman and the '■'■roman- 
tic history,^'' — that through those long, hopeless years when 
my life was covered like the dead beneath the wave, she 
having left her own New England home to watch over me, 
waited and watched from the Ohio side the ebb and flow of 
the tide of public sentiment, ministered to my comfort, 
pleaded my cause, and when released as a result of the 
national struggle in 1864 received me to "nurse me back to 
life again." 

I hold in my hand a clipping from the Rochester 
Democrat oi January, 1866 — " Seventeen years struck out of 
a man's life, during which his classmates have entered the 
world and built up fame and fortune, is of itself a very 
serious matter ; but, when you make them seventeen years 
of toil as hard as ever slave performed, and torture as keen 
and continuous as was ever inflicted upon a prisoner 

"Since man first pent his fellow men 
Like brutes within an iron den," 

it becomes a martyrdom more heroic than his who falls at 
the cannon's mouth:" and, "He kept an account everj^ day 
on the wall of his cell, and thus knows that he received in 



186 APPENDIX. 

all about thirty-five thousand stripes." And, O, I recall 
distinctly the manner, the animus, the causeless cause for 
thirty-five thousand one hundred and five stripes during 
eight years, with the strap of half-tanned leather from one- 
fourth to three-eighths of an inch in thickness, eighteen 
inches in length and one and a half inch in width, and 
attached to a convenient handle, — on my bare body — with 
all the might and malice of a human brute, simply for the 
ostensible reason that I did not execute the task assigned 
me, when it was emphatically out of my power. Says the 
Democrat, " And when he described his daily round of life 
there — the cruelties of the taslniiaster, the hopelessness of 
escape or release, and the strong temptation to suicide, his 
words rose into eloquence which is possible only when a 
speaker describes what he himself has experienced." He 
says, "horrible and heart sickening!" 

Then, here is "Pharaoh out-done," from the American 
Baptist, of 1864, and here is "Died in his cell," by a reporter, 
Anderson Elijah "Whipped blind and senseless." Audit 
was true. 

Now I hold a letter, " O darling, I shall get well; — shall 
be as well as anybody, and shall bring up our boy." And 
now the loving letter of my precious boy of nine years, 
signed "Your loving Callie." 

And now, — Hampshire Gazette, Williamsburg, — Death 
of Mrs. Fairbank, — Mandana, wife of Calvin Fairbank — 
after a year's sickness, — quick consumption, — died in her 
chair, suddenly. Mrs. Fairbank wan one of the finest 
of women — patient, self-sacrificing, tireless in effort, unceas- 
ing in care. September 29, 1876." These are all facts to 
me. But to the world before the stage they must seem 
more like fiction. Especially to persons below the age of 



APPENDIX. 187 

twenty-five, this, with the institution with which it was con- 
nected must appear like a tale that is told. 

Now, again, I am called into the field for that same 
people for whom I have been willing in the past to risk so 
much of time, and position, and name, and liberty, and 
health, and even life itself. In noticing our effort, I see 
that it is recognized as in the main a Baptist effort. It is 
not denominational at all. There are among its officers and 
board of directors people of all Protestant bodies; and some 
of no denomination; all aiming at education in every depart- 
ment of human life and character. The purpose is, let, 
To furnish a school for the many poor who are without 
school, there being not enough in the city; 2d, To form a 
nucleus of education in the industrial avocations, also, as 
soon as may be; and 3d, To secure a model institution in 
addition to those already doing their work in training those 
who are to lead society. Yours truly, 

Calvin Fairbank. 

P. S. Our institution is the Moore Street Missionary 
Society of Richmond, Virginia, and situated within the city. 



The Soldier's Award. 

BY REV. CALVIN FAIRBANK. 

The sentinel stood at his post. 

Nor heeded the storm and cold; 
But paced his beat 
Through snow and sleet, 

Cautiously treading with weary feet 

' Till the reveille was told. 



188 APPENDIX. 

The storm swept fiercely on: — 
The wife and darlings three 

Were thinking — "Where 

Does the soldier share 
Shelter and rest, or the bleak wild air? 
And where shall his burial be ? 

The sound of the battle's horn 
Rang shrill on the slumbering host, 

And that home was bright 

All that anxious night, 
Watching the march and the terrible fight 
Of the soldier they loved most. 

Where, now, are the men of "Lang Syne?" 
And the women so faithful and brave ? 

When the storm beats high 

In the soldier's sky, 
As he tenderly breathes a homeward sigh 
On the mouth of a soldier's grave. 

See! plying the busy thread 

By a thousand hearth-stones bright: 

And the air was still. 

Save the pratt'ling rill, — 
Or the town-clock o'er the distant hill 
Strikes the signal of the night. 

'Twas one by the signal stroke; 
And the weary, faithful, brave, 

Were plying the thread. 

For the living or dead, 
To pillow the patriot soldier's head. 
In his tent, or in his grave. 



APPENDIX. 189 

Hark! Hark! What means such haste? 
The battle is high!— they fight! 

Quick! — sound the alarm! 

Rouse ye, and arm! 
From cottage and plain; from store and farm, 
To the front! to the front to-night! 

Now holds high carnival 
The fiend of the battle's ire. 

Whose fingers in blood 

From the sat'rd flood. 
Which sinks away in the satured mud. 
Swell the dirge o'er the patriot pyre. 

On that victorious field 

' Gainst treason's remorseless strife, 

Lie husband and sire, 

Piled, stretched in the mire. 
While the joy at home wait and gaze in the fire, 
His cherubs and faithful wife. 
The smoke of the battle is gone: — 
There's a hearth-stone, a chair and a name; 

But the hearth- stone and chair — 

There's a vacancy there; 
And the sleeve which hangs armless there no arm 

to wear. 
No wealth, but his valor and fame. 
He has rescued the flag of the free, — 
Has restored to his country her fame; 

But her glory and power 

Shall they fade like a flower ? 
And her watch- word and signal be changed in an 

hour? 
And liberty left but a name ? 



190 APPENDIX. 

His award — what of that ? Shall it be 
That his crutch and sleeve are no more 

To be seen at the gate 

Of the temple of State; 
But the foeman who smote him in combat shall 

wait 
Where the patriot waited of yore? 

God forbid that the miscreant arm 
That periled our flag on that day — 

Nor a traitor's hand 

Of the rebel band 
Shall guard the doors of this sacred land, 
Or bear her glory away. 

But the hero — the citizen leal 
Keep vigils from sun to the sea; 

And our watch-word shall stand 

As a sign o'er the land; 
And our aegis of power be borne by the hand 
Of loyalty, faithful and free. 



A Much- Whipped Clergyman. 

Neiv York Letter to Indianapolis Neivs. 

A man of venerable aspect walked past John L. Sullivan 
in Broadway. The contrast in physique and apparent men- 
tality was vast. 

"I say, John," remarked a companion of the prize- 
fighter, "there goes the most whipped man on earth." 

"Has that old fellow been a professional?" Sullivan 
asked, a little disdainfully. 



APPENDIX. 191 

" Yes, a professional clergyman," was the reply. " He 
is Calvin Fairbank, and he has received over thirty thousand 
lashes on his bare back." 

There was no exaggeration in that statement. Fairbank 
was involved in the escape of nearly half a hundred negro 
slaves from Kentucky. He was convicted of forty -seven of 
these acts — or crimes, the law said — and sentenced to im- 
prisonment and whipped separately for each. Between 
1844 and 1862, when Lincoln released him, he was regularly 
whipped every month. He now lives at Angelica, N. Y., 
but sometimes comes to town to visit his fellow ministers at 
the Methodist Book Concern. His official whippings were 
only severe at the outset, and during the last ten years of 
his imprisonment amounted to hardly anything in physical 
torture, although degrading to his pride. 



May 14, 1890. — After all these years of toil I hold 
in my hand a card: — 

Mr. and Mrs. George W. Walker 

request the pleasure of your company at the marriage 
of their daughter 

SAKAH 

TO 

CALVIN C. FAIRBANK, 

Wednesday Afternoon, May Twenty-fiest, 

at theee o'olock, 

at theib «esidenoe 

Saybrook, Connecticut. 

1890. 

My life, so far, has been a success. When I 
entered the field for the oppressed, I counted on re- 



192 APPENDIX. 

proacli, poverty, and final triumph; and expected to 
"suffer tlie loss of all things, that I might win Christ. 
I have fought a good fight. I have [nearly] finished 
my course. I have kept the faith. Henceforth there 
is laid up for me a crown of righteousness." 



STATEMENT BY LAURA S. HAVILAND. 

It has been the expressed wish of the author of 
this little book, Calvin Fairbank, and his friends that 
I should add a few incidents in regard to his mar- 
tyrdom; for such it was, as truly as Elijah P. Love joy, 
Charles T. Torry, and many others who suffered and 
died on slavery's bloody altar, for obeying the "Higher 
Law" which they conscientiously believed to be God's 
law of Eternal Eight. Fifty, forty, or thirty years 
ago, it cost everything to the few who dared occupy 
this broad standpoint, and carry out in all their 
life work, these grand, heaven-born principles. It 
cost "Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness," to 
those who dared advocate the "Fatherhood of God, 
and the Brotherhood of man." 

In retrospect, this vast field rises before me a won- 
derful panorama, from ocean to ocean, from the lakes 
to the gulf, with its ever-changing dissolving views. 
Here and there a cyclone appeared in our moral 
horizon; darker, and darker still the portentous clouds 
overshadowed our beloved country. Amid these clouds, 

13 193 



194 APPENDIX. 

a mysterious letter fell into Levi Coffin's hands. He 
took it to Dr. Brisbane, Edward Harwood, Lawyer 
Jollif , and others, but no one could define it ; but as it 
came from Louisville jail, all decided that some one 
was in trouble. But who? was the question. It was 
signed six, and eight dots, with, "These dots spell my 
name." As I had been on College Hill a few weeks, 
caring for a sick lady, and returned to Levi's (in whose 
family I made my home four years, about half the time 
nursing the sick, the other half aiding escaping slaves) 
— " There, Laura, is a problem for thee to solve — 
we've all had our hand at it." 

And that apostle of freedom brought me the open 
letter. 

I said, " Calvin Fairbank, that fills the dots. 
Poor man, he's there in trouble!" 

" I did not know," said Levi, " that he was any 
■where in this part of the country." 

"He called here in thy absence, on his way to take 
his father's remains back home ; and some poor slave 
has appealed to him for help; and he never turns one 
away." 

A few weeks later, a colored man who had been in 
Louisville jail under suspicion of being a slave, but 
had proven his freedom, and been released, came to 
Levi's home. By him Calvin sent word that he was 



APPENDIX. 195 

suffering from cold, and unless he could have quilt, 
blanket, and woolen underwear he must perish. 
Weather very cold. The river frozen over in some 
places. This colored man told us Calvin had only a 
pile of filthy straw in his cell. This was truly distress- 
ing. Under circumstances of great excitement over 
him, they had found out who he was, and four weeks 
previously Williams from Massachusetts was hung near 
Baltimore by a mob, without judge or jury, because he 
followed a kidnaper of two little girls, of free parents in 
Pennsylvania, who were enticed by a peddler, who had 
sold them in Baltimore, Maryland. Great excitement 
over that occurrence. And but two weeks before, a 
Mr. Conklin was overtaken in Vincennes, Indiana, with 
the wife and four children of an escaped slave, and all 
were taken to a boat going do^vn the river ; but as they 
were near being overtaken for kidnaping Conklin from 
Indiana they bound him in ropes and threw him 
in the river, where he was found a few days later. 
Here, too, was a source of great excitement in both 
sections of our country. North and South. 

Now, with all these dark clouds over us, who would 
be safe in relieving our suffering brother Rev. Calvin 
Fairbank? This was a question hard to solve from 
human standpoint. After a few days of prayer, • I 
reached the conclusion to go with the unerring Guide 



196 APPENDIX. 

who said to those on the right, " Naked, and ye clothed 
me: I was sick and ye visited me: I was in prison and 
ye came unto me." 

"Levi and Catharine, I am going to Louisville jail, 
and relieve our brother Calvin Fairbank. I am con- 
fident I shall safely return." 

"I don't know, Laura, but thou art the very one to 
go," said Levi in his careful, moderate way. 

" And I have a trunk and a warm quilt to put in it," 
rejoined Catharine. 

Levi called on Captain Barker, who gave half -fare 
ticket on Ben Franklin No. 2 to leave next day at two 
p. M. Friends filled the trunk, paid my fare, and sent 
fourteen dollars to Calvin for a little pocket change. 
Melancthon Henry (the son of Patrick Henry by a 
slave girl, who was freed by him, with the child, and 
left by will, a nice little property), when he placed 
three dollars in my hand, said, "I know you are going 
into the lions' den, and I pray they may not close their 
teeth upon you. Be as wise as the serpent without the 
poison, and that is harmless as the dove." 

At last Levi called on Dr. Brisbane, who expressed 
great surprise that any one knowing all the circum- 
stances should have given me a word of encoui'agement. 
"For it will never do for her to go at this juncture. 
Remember Williams, and Conklin ! ! And very likely 



APPENDIX. 197 

she will share the same fate. If she goes, I doubt 
whether we shall ever see her again. Tell her she 
must not go. I fear it will be at the peril of her life." 

Levi did the errand, 

"I see no geographical lines drawn in my Bible, 
and I am free to go." 

Captain Barker gave me a note of introduction to 
Colonel Buckner, the jailor, that I presented the follow- 
ing morning, before sunrise, and was politely received, 
and introduced to his wife and daughter; also the 
Colonel's wife's sister, and her daughter (from Boston 
on a visit), making quite a social circle. 

I at once made my errand known, and delivered the 
trunk to the Colonel, who looked it over — not that he 
expected to find anything improper for a prisoner to 
receive, but this was his duty as a keeper (rather 
apologetically). I also made known my prospect of 
returning at four r. m. on the same boat. 

"But why return so soon?" 

"Because my errand will have been accomplished; 
my ticket takes me back free." 

"I'll see the sheriff and find out if I can take you 
in to Fair bank. As there was great excitement over 
his arrest, I dare not take you in without his approval." 

He soon returned with the report that the sheriff 
was out in the country for two or three days. 



198 APPENDIX. 

"You certainly ought not to leave without seeing 
Fairbank, and I reckon there will be no difficulty as 
soon as I can see him, and you can stay with us just 
as well as not; it shall not cost you a cent; it is just as 
free as air." 

I told him my friends would be there when the boat 
was due to meet me. 

"But you can write them a note and I'll take it to 
the boat myself." 

I consented for Calvin's sake. 

During three days' waiting for the sheriff, great 
pains was taken to secure a private interview, by notes 
between Calvin and myself. A prisoner was released, 
and pretended to be in confidence with Fairbank, and 
brought me the name of the place where was Tamar's 
trunk with valuable articles that he wished me to for- 
ward to her; and wanted to know if I knew of such and 
such names. I told him I knew nothing of those 
names, neither could I have anything to do about the 
trunk. I told him I did not know but the girl had been 
arrested with Fairbank, until I came here. (I learned 
afterward that Shotwell, the man who lost the girl, had 
paid him three hundred dollars to do all he could to 
find Tamar. ) After failing to get any clue from me, 
he went on to Indiana to meet another failure. 

During this waiting to see the sheriff, great effort 



APPENDIX. 199 

was made to convince me of the wickedness of aboli- 
tion principles. One appalling feature was, my aboli- 
tion principles would lead to amalgamation! "As for 
that, amalgamation belongs on your side of the house. 
You have more than five hundred cases of amalgama- 
tion to our one in the North. You know there are those 
who claim as property their own flesh and blood. And 
this is found here in your own city Louisville. In this 
statement I am fearless of successful contradiction." 

Giving his shoulders a shrug, the Colonel replied, 
"I know it is a most woful fact." 

One argument among the many he referred me 
to, was of a slave man who was enticed away from 
Mr. Adams of South Carolina, who spent the evening 
with us in the parlor, to whom I was introduced. He 
seemed quite a jolly sort of a man, and it was no wonder, 
after finding his Jack and the "pile of money" (as he 
called it) in the jailor's hands. The next day. Colonel 
Buckner, pointing to a black man in his yard, said, — 

"Now, I want to show you just what your abolition 
principles lead to. That negro Jack belongs to Mr. 
Adams, and a man went to him alone, and asked him if 
he would not like to be fi'ee, and be his own master. 
Jack said yes. ' Then you come to me by that big 
tree near the road, about eleven o'clock to-night, and 
we can travel all night and lay by in the day, and I'll 



200 APPENDIX. 

take you through to Canada. There you'll be a free 
man.' And the plan was followed. After they had 
traveled two or three nights, he proposed to Jack, to 
allow him to assume to be his master, and let him sell 
him in the next town ; then he could run away again, 
and he would watch for him behind some big tree or 
log ; then he would give him half the money he got for 
him, and that would give him quite a start in his new 
home in Canada. This plan was adopted, and this gave 
Jack quite a pile of money. But this was not the end 
of sales. By the time they got here he had sold Jack 
seven times. After he had been here in jail about three 
days, Jack told me all about it. And I took charge of 
his pile of money, and wrote his master, and he just 
got here yesterday, and he's going to go around town 
with Jack to see if he can get sight of the rogue that 
enticed him away." 

After listening to his story all through, said I, 
" That is not the work of an Abolitionist." 

" Oh, yes, he told Jack he was an Abolishioner." 
" That may be, but that man was a rogue of the 
darkest hue, and ought to have been here in jail instead 
of Jack. You can see for yourself, if he had been true 
to Jack, he would have left the river before reaching 
this place, and have been on their way to Canada; but 
no — he was taking him down the river to a more 



APPENDIX. 201 

southern market, where he would have sold Jack for 
the last time, taken possession of Jack's 'pile of money,' 
and fled to parts unknown. I care not what he called 
himself, he was a hypocrite, and a villain, and is worthy 
of severe punishment/" 

On this Sabbath morning Ben Franklin No. 2 was 
in port, and I was ready to leave, and the Colonel had 
heard nothing from the sheriff yet. 

" I do not like to see you go without seeing Fair- 
bank, and I've a great mind to risk it any how. Come 
on." 

And we soon stood before the forty slaves who 
were there, not because they had committed anything 
A^Tong, but were placed there by a trader, for safe 
keeping, until he had gathered up his gang for the lower 
market. 

Calling for Fairbank, as I met him amid all this 
crushing bitterness, with these forty sad faces before 
us, I could not withhold tears. He was brave and said, 
"Let us keep good courage. I think I shall be released 
when the trial comes off. I want you to see my lawyer, 
Mr. Thruston." 

"But his figures, seven hundred dollars, are too 
high for us in Cincinnati to reach ; and I am not pre- 
pared to indemnify a lawyer, and have no liberty what- 
ever to do it." 



202 APPENDIX. 

"But he may throw ofif a few hundred dollars, if you 
see him. Don't go without seeing Mr. Thruston." 

To add to these pleading words while pressing my 
hand in both of his, Colonel Buckner with tearful eyes 
said, 

" Mrs. Haviland, I reckon it's your duty to stop 
over, and see Fairbank's lawyer; you can remain with 
us, or go to Dr. Fields as Fairbank suggests; and wait 
for the boat to make another trip." 

As I felt he would be sacrificed, as others had been, 
and probably this would be the last favor he would 
ever receive, I gave way, and told him I would remain, 
and see his lawyer. 

As the time had already been extended beyond the 
limit given, and we were about to leave, Calvin looked 
at four men standing near us, and asked if I knew 
them. I nodded a recognition, but no word could be 
spoken. Thqy were self-freed slaves for years, but had 
been captured. They were in tears. As we were 
passing out, the Colonel asked if I could go to their 
apartments alone. 

" Certainly." 

The officers beckoned to see me a moment, and I 
passed on and met their slave man. 

"Did you (in undertone) see Fairbank?" I nodded 
assent. 



APPENDIX 203 

"Glorious!" (hardly above a whisper). 

As I was passing through the hall, their slave Mary, 
in a whisper I could hear, "Did you see him?" As I 
nodded an assent — "Good! good!" 

A few minutes elapsed, and the jailor came in tremb- 
ling, and pale as a sick man, and said, 

" Mrs. Havilaud, I fear I shall not be able to pro- 
tect you longer. These officers are for arresting you 
at once. They asked if I did not see the effect upon 
those forty slaves, the moment that lady entered the 
jail. I told them I did not, as my attention was 
directed to you and Fairbank. They said it was like 
an electric shock, upon those slaves; and then those 
four men just stood there and cried. 'They know her, 
and it's very plain to be seen, that she is a dangerous 
person and ought to be in this jail, as well as Fairbank.' " 

" Colonel Buckner, I am just as safe here as if in 
my room in Cincinnati. The God of Daniel is here, 
and if your officers should arrest me at this hour, you 
Avould not keep me in your jail three days. You know 
my business here. Should they arrest me this moment, 
I should not be the least excited. I have nothing to 
fear whatever." 

And he became more calm, and remarked, "It is a 
glorious thing to feel like this. There has been a great 
deal of excitement ; they had you reported in the papers 



204 APPENDIX. 

as Delia Webster [a lady who had been arrested for 
the same offense in that state]. I got a gentleman who 
knew her, to call and see you the other evening. He 
told me as he passed out, that he would call on those 
editors and disabuse them at once, and tell them there 
was nothing to fear from Mrs. Haviland. And he did 
quiet them. But I reckon you had better go imme- 
diately to JefPersonville, and not cross over on this side 
on any account. It will not be safe for you to set foot 
on Kentucky soil." 

He had suggested going with me to the ferry, but 
said, " It would be safer for you to go alone, as these 
officers now know you are with me." 

" Very well; " and I left the troubled jailor. As I 
passed through a company of men in front of a large 
hotel, I heard one say, 

"Great excitement in town to-day." 

"Yes, sir; you'll see a squad of men at every street 
corner. The whole city seems to be astir this morning." 

I smiled, and said to myself, you have no idea it is 
this little rusty woman, ' you are making this jBurry 
over. 

After crossing the river, I inquired for Dr. Fields, 
and was shown the house. As I reached the gate, I 
inquired of a company standing on the porch, if this 
was Dr. Fields'' residence. 



APPENDIX. 205 

"Yes, I'm a Jasou. Come on, Mrs. Haviland. 
We've been looking for you daily, for the week past." 

"How is this?" 

"We'll show you a file of papers, with notes of 
threats each day since you have been in Louisville." 

I told him all these had been carefully kept from 
me, until I was about leaving, when the jailor got 
fi'ightened and told me not to set foot again on Kentucky 
soil, and he would see Mr. Thruston and send him over 
to see me. 

" The jailor lied, for he knew he had been sick two 
weeks. Also lied about the sheriff, for he was there all 
the time, and I know it." , 

I sent a note to Lawyer Tkrustou, and he returned 
the message, to come and see him, and he would stand 
between me and all harm. 

The doctor gave me an umbrella to shield me from 
the jail, as well as the storm, as I had to pass the jail to 
go to Lawyer Thruston 's, who told me to collect for 
him whatever was convenient, and he would do the 
best he could for Calvin Fairbank, and I returned to 
our "Jason" without harm. 

The doctor (who, like Dr. Brisbane, and James G. 
Birney, had set his slaves free, and moved out of Ken- 
tucky on account of slavery) and family were so kind 
it seemed like an oasis in a desert. 



206 APPENDIX. 

When the boat made her trip the second time I was 
ready, and was met by Levi Coffin at the wharf. 

"Well, Laura, we've had a time over thee. Dr. 
Brisbane and James G. Birney have been sick over 
thee. The doctor has been so distressed he could 
hardly eat or sleep." 

They appointed a reception at a private house, and 
we rejoiced together, with the mixture of sorrow over 
Calvin's sad prospects. They received no note from me, 
only threats in those papers. 

After the mock trial and his sentence was pro- 
nounced, he wrote a letter to Mandana Tileston (his 
affianced), that he would release her from their engage- 
ment. But she replied, 

"If you out-live your term, if I marry any man, it 
will be Calvin Fairbank," And the noble woman 
watched and waited all those years, to nurse him back 
to life, after receiving over one hundred terrible whip- 
pings, that counted, all told, thirty -five thousand one 
hundred and five lashes on his bare flesh. I have heard 
him say, it seemed to him that every ten strokes were 
equal to a death. He has often said, had he not 
inherited an iron constitution he must have sunk under 
those years of cruel treatment. But to show how little 
of bitterness he retained, as he was passing along the 
street in Cincinnati, he saw Zeb Ward and his wife 



APPENDIX. 207 

thrown from their carriage into a ditch. He ran to 
their relief, and told Ward he would assist his wife to a 
surgeon's office across the street, as she was badly hurt. 
After placing her in the hands of the surgeon, Fairbank 
returned to see what he could do for Ward. As Ward 
looked at him, in surprise, he said "Fairbank, is 
that you?" 

"Yes." 

"Why! I should have thought you would have 
killed me, instead of helping me." And took from his 
purse a roll of bills, — "There is one hundred dollars — 
take that." 

"Oh, no, I don't ask anything for helping any one 
in trouble." 

"I tell you to take it." 

"I made one hundred dollars last evening by talk- 
ing about you, and I have another meeting this evening, 
and I shall talk about you again." 

"I don't care for that. I tell you to take this." 

"And I did take it, with thanks." 

I hope and trust this little sketch of Eev. Calvin 
Fairbank's thrilling life will find an abundant sale to 
aid him now in his broken-down, destitute, infirm 
old age of seventy-four years. 

Laura S. Haviland. 



3477-2 



